


shine

by togetherwecouldbealright



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, F/M, Famous Louis, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Rimming, Seeding, about a million references to 1D things, it's not as bad as it seems I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 04:27:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3922879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/togetherwecouldbealright/pseuds/togetherwecouldbealright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> Louis has never seen someone who is as beautiful as Harry is, the faint light overhead casting a warm glow over him. He’s wearing an apron that matches the color of his lips and it’s slightly askew, tied loosely around his waist. His hair is pulled into a messy bun, a single strand falling into his eyes that are filled with a tangible wildness. There’s also a streak of flour across one of his cheekbones that he’s failed to notice.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He’s messy. He’s incredibly messy. But he’s also so, so beautiful that he takes Louis’ breath away. Louis doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way about someone. </i>
</p><p>Louis is an actor who needs to get away from the real world. He does the only thing that he can and runs away, finding himself in a small town where he happens upon Harry. What Louis doesn't expect is to somehow fall in love and end up having to face what he was running from all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	shine

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [shine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5168648) by [youcanbeenough](https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcanbeenough/pseuds/youcanbeenough)
  * Translation into Русский available: [shine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7337482) by [Jimmy_from_Suburbia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jimmy_from_Suburbia/pseuds/Jimmy_from_Suburbia)



> Ohhhhhh my God, you wouldn't believe it but this fic has been in the works since 2013. Not really but I wrote the plot for this fic down in 2013 and only just now found it this year.
> 
> So this is essentially a love letter to Louis Tomlinson because he is the most darling person on this earth (well he's tied with Harry but) and I hope he is always, always happy. Of course, Louis' relationship with Harry is a very essential part of the story but it focuses on heavily on his character overall, just to clarify.
> 
> I also wrote this for myself because I've come to terms with a lot of things about myself this past year and writing is the way I express myself. I hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> The title is from Years & Year's song Shine which you should also listen to because I think it heavily embodies this fic. Thank you to the people who helped me with this fic but most especially my beta Holly who never fails to provide me with support. Also to Maddie because this was supposed to be her birthday present but I flopped (no surprise there) and it's about two months late, sorry about that. Okay that's all, I hope this lives up to all your expectations!

* * *

_I was biting my tongue_  
_I was trying to hide_  
_I'll forget what I've done_  
_I will be redefined_

 _it's shaking the sky_  
_and I'm following lightning_  
_I'll recover if you keep me alive_  
_don't leave me behind_  
_can you see me? I'm shining_  
_and it's you that I've been waiting to find_

[Shine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=myRBzXZCfno), Years & Years

* * *

  ****

It starts off just like any other day.

Harry is doing his grocery shopping when he gets the text alert. He doesn’t actually know _why_ he gets the text alert but he has a feeling it has a lot to do with the fact that Niall uses his phone number to sign up for the stupidest newsletters.

It’s something from a gossip site and the text reads, _Breaking news; Louis Tomlinson is on break? WHAAAAAT? We can’t believe it either! The twenty three year old was last seen on the red carpet for Angelina Jolie’s latest movie when he abruptly left and there hasn’t been word since! That is, until this morning. Tomlinson tweeted out to fans saying he’s taking a mini 2 MONTH break! What’s mini about that? Devastating is the first word that pops into our minds. Hopefully the actor will be back soon—but leave a comment here bit.ly/j24i3m with your guess as to why the actor decided to take this unexpected break!_

Harry furrows his eyebrows at his phone before shrugging to himself and putting it back in his pocket. Then he looks at the bananas in his other hand and decides that they’re too ripe for his liking. He places them back from where he got them and takes another cursory look at the rest of the bananas. He’s aware that he’s just a bit too infatuated with fruit but it isn’t as though he has anything else to fall in love with.

Also in Harry’s humble opinion, three fruit a day seems too few.

He finally decides on the bananas he wants and puts them in his cart before he keeps walking down the fruit aisle.

Holmes Chapel isn’t really known for their diversity in fruit or their diversity in anything actually but Harry, being the good person he is, stays anyways.

Alright, so _maybe_ that isn’t the actual reason.

It’s more that this place is his home. He knows the people he passes in the streets, knows where to get the best food, knows the perfect spot for a campout and he knows the good places to hide away if the need comes up. He’s in the local university for his law degree and in a few months, he’ll be in London for further studies.

In the meantime, he’s extremely content to stay at home. He likes his life a lot and he doesn’t think he’d change it.

Harry’s happy, even if there’s no real adventure or flare to his life. He wants that adventure one day but he knows it’ll come to him. He knows fate is a thing, but right now his destiny is saying that he needs to find a can of a beans.

That’s alright.

Later, he gets home to Niall passed out on their couch. After throwing a blanket over him, Harry goes to his own room and he crawls under his sheets, stuffing his face into his pillow. He’s half asleep when his phone buzzes on his bedside table.

Harry groans before his arm flails out and he moves his hand around until his fingers close around his phone. He brings it close to his face and then winces from how bright the screen is.

It’s another text from the gossip site and this time it says _We have some new info on Louis *Tommo* Tomlinson! An insider says he’s staying in some small town in England where one of his childhood friends live. We’ve yet to find out the EXACT details but when we do, you’ll be the first to know! Click bit.ly/2n3an7 to find out more about Louis and his friends._

There’s a moment’s pause before Harry groans again and this time he shoots a quick text to Niall, threatening him with bodily harm if he ever signs Harry up for these type of newsletters again.

He doesn’t wait for a response since he knows that Niall probably left his phone in his room like he always does when he passes out on the couch. That means he won’t wake up to the sound of buzzing so there’s really no reason for Harry to hope for a reply. Instead, Harry goes to sleep without a second thought.

When Harry wakes up to bright light filtering in through his blinds, he belatedly realizes there’s someone on top of him.

Harry lets out a high pitched scream and the person rolls right off of him to the floor before they start to laugh maniacally. Then Harry realizes that it’s Niall.

“What’s _wrong_ with you?” Harry wonders exasperatedly, throwing his sheets off and Niall is still laughing on the floor.

“Mate, you should’ve seen your face!” Niall exclaims and then he starts beating the floor with his fist.

Harry rolls his eyes fondly before he kicks out at Niall with no intent to make contact.

The blond man dodges the kick neatly but not before he makes a quiet sound of dismay. At least he stops laughing though. That gives Harry the incentive to actually get out of bed and slip on a pair of sweatpants he finds lying on the floor before heading over to his closet.

He runs a hand through his hair as he wonders what to wear before he turns back to Niall who’s sitting up now with Harry’s phone in his hand.

“Oh, while you have that, please do me a favor and turn off those notifications from that weird gossip site. Who’s Louis Tomlinson anyways?” Harry wonders, digging through his closet for a jumper but he still manages to hear Niall’s loud gasp of disbelief.

He thinks Niall is probably playing it up for his benefit which is why he doesn’t bother to turn around.

“What do you mean who is Louis Tomlinson? Only the greatest actor of generation! Come on, Haz, I know you’ve watched his movies, I’ve _made_ you. Remember, he played Benedict in that movie about football?”

Harry falters for a moment, trying to remember before he snaps his fingers as though he’s suddenly figured it out when he really hasn’t. “I haven’t got a clue as to who we’re speaking about,” Harry announces cheerfully and he can almost hear Niall roll his eyes.

“Why are we even friends?” Niall mumbles and Harry throws a shirt over his shoulder. He knows it lands where he wants it to because Niall starts to flail behind him, making weird noises.

“We’re friends because you’d have no one else to move with you to London if it weren’t for me,” Harry reminds Niall before his fingers close around the material of an old jumper.

He slips it over his head before turning back to Niall. “Now, did you turn off the notifications?”

“Yes,” Niall mumbles, holding the phone out to Harry but there’s a look of mischief in his eyes that Harry knows all too well. He wouldn’t be surprised if he’s signed up to some Louis Tomlinson fan club now.

“Ridiculous,” Harry mutters before walking out of his room and Niall follows him after a moment. “I’m guessing you were in my room because of breakfast?”

“A man after my own heart,” Niall calls behind him and Harry has to bite back his grin. Despite all his tomfoolery, Harry has a special place for Niall in his heart.

The Irish boy is a laugh and he’s also Harry’s best friend. In his dull life, he has at least Niall to give it some sort of spark.

So yes, Harry loves Niall and he’s willing to make him breakfast despite the heart attack he gave him not even five minutes ago.

When he’s flipping some pancakes, he notices that Niall has taken his phone again and he starts to get suspicious. After he puts a plate down in front of Niall, he sits down next to him and stares pointedly.

Niall just mumbles a thanks before stuffing his face, all while still staring at Harry’s phone.

Finally, Harry breaks the silence. “As far as I know, I don’t have nudes on there… so what are you doing?”

Of course, Niall’s response is to just laugh and ignore him. Harry sighs indulgently and uses a spare fork to take part of Niall’s pancakes himself.

Niall must notice because he makes a face but he doesn’t stop his scrolling on Harry’s phone and that’s when Harry _knows_ something weird is going on.

“Give me my phone, please?” Harry requests sweetly and Niall grunts, but doesn’t make any move to give it back. “Fine, we’ll do it the hard way,” he mutters petulantly to himself before he lunges across the table.

Niall lets out a shout of surprise and then suddenly, there are pancakes on the floor and both of them grow incredibly silent as they stare at the mess.

When Harry looks up, he expects Niall to come at him with the plastic knife he was holding but instead the blond boy only offers the food a cursory glance before he returns his gaze to Harry’s phone.

Harry squints at his best friend before moaning in despair quietly and moving to get the mop and a pair of disposable gloves. “I hate you,” he adds, shouldering past the blond man.

By the time he finishes cleaning their kitchen floor, Niall has moved onto eating what was left of Harry’s own breakfast and Harry wishes he could say it was surprising but that would be a lie.

Knowing his breakfast is a lost cause, Harry grabs an apple from their fruit basket and sits down beside Niall, staring pointedly again.

This lasts for five minutes but Harry gives up and drops his head against the kitchen counter with a quiet thud. When that gets no reaction out of Niall either, Harry pouts.

“Niall,” he whines, dragging the blond man’s name out, “what’s going on?”

Niall looks up then and furrows his eyebrows. “You’ve got syrup on your face.”

“ _Niall_ ,” Harry complains exasperatedly.

“Alright, alright, you really want to know?” Niall asks, looking far too smug. It’s clear that Harry needs to invest in a new best friend.

Harry doesn’t bother answering him, just gives him a very flat look and Niall snickers before finally putting the phone down. “So remember that bloke we were just talking about? Louis Tomlinson?”

It’s a wonder that Harry doesn’t just walk out of the kitchen right then. “Yes,” he answers slowly, unsure as to where Niall’s taking the conversation.

“Well,” Niall pauses for effect and Harry reaches over to lightly shove him. Niall bats his hands away before grinning and excitedly informing, “He’s in Holmes Chapel.”

Harry’s first thought is about strangling Niall but when what he’s saying finally registers, Harry gapes a little in surprise. No one ever comes to Holmes Chapel. They’re a small town with a population of about six thousand and everyone knows everyone. No one ever wanders in and rarely does anyone ever wander out.

The last people Harry remembers wandering in would be the two men who moved in a couple of blocks away from the bakery. He doesn’t remember their names but he knows one is from Bradford and the other from Wolverhampton but they moved to Holmes Chapel from London.

Gemma is the last person Harry remembers leaving Holmes Chapel, for schooling in Manchester and when it happened it was a _huge_ deal. The whole town showed up at her going away party.

Which is why it doesn’t make any sense for a celebrity to decide to stroll in and decide to stay for more than an hour.

“What’s he doing here?” he wonders, completely baffled.

Niall shrugs, lips twisting into something unpleasant. “I don’t know,” he admits but then his eyes light up. “But he’s in that small cottage next to your family’s bungalow.”

Harry blinks at him. “How do you even know that?”

“What do you think I was doing on your phone?” Niall retorts, pointedly sliding the phone across the table. Harry gives him an incredulous look but reaches out and takes it anyways.

True to his word, there’s a text from Jonny who lives next door to his parents’ old home. It’s a picture of this Louis Tomlinson bloke’s cottage from the side and in the back, Harry can see the smallest sliver of his family’s bungalow.

Harry narrows his eyes at Niall then. “I guess ‘why do you even know that’ is the better question here, isn’t it?” he asks, even though he knows he’s not going to like the answer.

“Well,” Niall starts and his tone is hopeful which means Harry won’t like what he has to say, “Your mum’s still with Robin in London for his work, isn’t she? That means no one has given him the customary new neighbor cookies. We should bake him cookies.”

“You mean _I_ should bake him cookies,” Harry deadpans and Niall just smiles delightedly. After a moment, Harry nods slightly, rolling his eyes. “Fine. But you have to turn off the notifications. Promise me.”                 

Niall holds his pinky out and Harry links it with begrudging trust. “I promise,” the blond man swears.

“I can’t believe I have to go back to the grocery store in a day,” Harry mumbles then, running a hand through his hair again and pushing it out of his eyes as he stands up. “As if Melly doesn’t judge me enough for my fruit choice when I go to the register.”

“Put in a good word for me, she’s fit,” is Niall’s reply, followed by a condescending pat to the head. “Love you Haz.”

Harry just glowers at him but it doesn’t seem to dampen the Irishman’s mood because he continues to grin brightly as he walks out of the kitchen.

His phone buzzes in his hand again then, startling Harry out of where he was watching Niall’s back. He glances down at it and sees another text.

He ignores it for the time being and only gets the chance to read it ten minutes later, after he’s dressed and got his wallet in his back pocket to buy the ingredients for cookies.

_Update on the Tommo! Apparently the reasoning behind Tomlinson’s abrupt departure at the movie premiere he attended two nights ago has to do with a fan that was being roughhoused. How can this possibly be!? The Tomlinsters have clearly gone wild from the lack of recent movies starring their idol. Click here to see the video where brave, heroic Louis Tomlinson saves his mighty fan from the wrath of the other Tomlinsters!_

After skimming the lines while walking to the front door of the flat, Harry deletes the text and makes a mental note to sit on Niall when he comes back until he turns off all the notifications.

With that thought in his head, Harry grabs one of his coats off the coat rack beside the door along with his keys. As he opens the door, he has a brief burst of curiosity concerning Louis Tomlinson but it passes almost as quickly and he closes the door behind himself.

✿✿✿

Louis is an idiot. As in the biggest idiot on the planet.

He figures the lot of decisions that he made in life that led him to this point were not worth it. Not worth it at _all_. In fact, Louis figures he wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t made a handful of those decisions, but right now he doesn’t really have a hand in the matter.

He offers the cameras a bright grin just as another round of flashes go off, people yelling at him from all sides. It makes Louis’ head pound with the oncomings of a headache but he doesn’t dare to wipe the smile off his face.

“Louis! Louis, how was it having Kristen Stewart as your costar?”

“Louis, is true you cheated on your ex-girlfriend with Rita Ora? The pictures you two having dinner a few months ago—“

“Tommo, smile pretty for me over here, would you?”

“Louis, are you excited for your new movie to come out in a few months?”

“Over here, Tommo! Come on man!”

Louis maneuvers through the paparazzi until he’s on the red carpet and then more flashes go off. He waves for the cameras until one of his managers motions for him to go over to the crowd to sign things for the fans that have queued up for hours.

“Louis! Oh my God, _Louis_! Can you please sign—” Louis grabs the girl’s journal and sharpie, quickly signing it off with a smiley face.

“There you go, love,” he says before moving to the next person who’s holding up their phone and staring at him in awe. Louis smiles at them and grabs the phone, turning around briefly and taking a selfie with her before handing the phone back.

This goes on for the next five minutes when he stops at a boy who’s staring at him with huge eyes, holding out his phone. Louis moves to grab it when it gets thrown several meters from his feet, making him look up abruptly in surprise. The boy is pushed roughly against the barricade as some girl moves in front of him. “Get out of the way, faggot,” the girl sneers at the boy who cowers under the words.

Louis feels his blood run ice cold in his veins at the word and his lips set into a thin line. He backs away from the girl, instead moving to get the boy’s phone. After his fingers close tightly around it, he comes back to see the same boy from before looking close to tears.

Louis does his best not to glare at the girl whose mouth has fallen open in shock.

“C’mere love, let’s take a picture. Wipe away those tears, would you?” Louis says softly and the boy looks like he’s in shock as his shaking fingers move to wipe his face.

Louis smiles gently before he raises the boy’s phone and makes a silly face. He snaps the photo before handing back the boy’s phone. He knows there are people recording him but it doesn’t stop him from saying his next words. “Please don’t let anyone think they’re better than you. You’re _so_ brave and strong. Don’t ever forget that. Thank you for your support—it means so much to me and _you_ mean so much to me. Keep your head held high, alright love?”

Then Louis turns on his heel and stalks in the opposite direction of the premiere, past the red carpet and back towards the cars. He can feel the heat of camera flashes on his face but he ignores them in favor of getting into a random car. He vaguely registers that people are yelling at him from all sides but he can’t find it in himself to care.

He feels like he’s burning with anger and he tells the driver to take him to his address. The driver hesitates until Louis snaps that he’ll pay him double of whatever his usual pay is and that gets the man to step down on the pedal.

After that, Louis has an entire half an hour to really let the rage sink in. He knows he shouldn’t have acted so irrationally but he also knows he couldn’t have made it through the entire movie premiere after witnessing that.

Louis is aware of how his public relations team is going to be upset with him and his management team will as well. After all, he’s Louis Tomlinson, youngest actor to win an Oscar for a leading role at just twenty. He’s twenty three now and he knows his acting career has only just begun with three Oscars under his belt.

He’s always wanted to act. He remembers back in secondary school, he used to be in all of the school plays and he supposes that he got lucky because someone of importance was at one of them and sought him out.

It began with small parts, minor roles in a few television shows. Then, someone in the passing gave him their business card and he was in a movie with George Clooney as his son.

His life exploded a little after that.

Now he’s one of the most valued young actors of his generation and it’s _crazy_. Louis literally can’t even begin to fathom how insane his life has become.

And he loves it, he really does. He’s a millionaire in just his early twenties and he can support his family and he gets to travel the world and he has fans and people who _adore_ him. He has some of the best friends he could ask for and most of the time his management team lets him make his own decisions.

The key word there being most.

Around the same age that he started to accept larger roles, he started to realize that he preferred David Beckham over Natalie Portman. To say the least, it wasn’t all that surprising for him but it definitely was for his new management team.

He’s almost _positive_ that they would have dropped him if he hadn’t just landed the role of George Clooney’s son. Instead, they hired an entire new public relations team that consists of people that Louis actually loves and called it a day.

But then, Louis started to get _big_. His twitter followers began raising in tens of thousands per day until he reached around ten million and his management team realized that Louis wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

Following that was Eleanor. After Louis was seen taking a few boys home a few too many times, his management just shoved a pretty, long legged girl at him and told him to hold her hand and go somewhere that the paparazzi could get good pictures.

That was over three years ago. He has a new management team now, run by a man named Irving Azoff who is one of the best people Louis has ever had the pleasure of working with. Additionally, Irving let him bring his PR team with him when he changed managements.

He honestly doesn’t understand how his own fans, labeled _Tomlinsters,_ didn’t realize how fake it all was. He gets the rare occasional headache where he wonders why his old management even bothered if they ended up fucking it all up anyways.

It wasn’t his fault, he knows that much. He did his part—he isn’t one of the best actors of the twenty-first century for no reason, after all. He knows he was convincing because the fans ate it all up, they _loved_ his fake girlfriend. Some of them still even have twitter accounts for _her_ instead of him which is… strange.

But there are those who knew better. There are those that reminded him that they loved him no matter who he loves and those were and still are his favorite fans.

At the same time, back then Louis didn’t have control of his own twitter and sometimes when he came across some of their profiles it would say that he blocked them. He knows he didn’t do it and those were the moments that he _really_ hated his management team.

But they weren’t bad to him. They weren’t exactly good either but it didn’t matter because the world is cruel and Louis knew even back then what he had to do to keep a clean image.

Eleanor was all kinds of lovely but he couldn’t stand her half the time because of what she represented. She represented everything he couldn’t have and everything he should’ve wanted.

It’s alright though because Louis never really saw a reason to come out. He’s fine right now, with his life the way it is. He’s discussed it with Irving before and they both agreed he doesn’t have to come out ever if he doesn’t want to but he also can if he ever decides differently.

He doesn’t decide differently. His excuse is that he has no one to risk it for and it’s somewhat of the truth because he thinks maybe what he really needs is someone to push him into making the risk. He’s too much of a coward to face the world’s wrath without someone by his side.

So Louis’ life is good. Except that half an hour ago he was helpless but to watch one of his fans get assaulted by another one of his other fans and called a homophobic slur just because he wanted a picture with Louis.

There’s a really bad feeling crawling under Louis’ skin and he feels almost sick to his stomach. There’s more than one reason for how nauseous he’s feeling, but if he starts thinking of his past he’s going to go down to a place he never wants to be. Instead he focuses on what’s happening right now.

The movie premiere. The fan who got assaulted. His abrupt departure. How he’s stuck in the closet.

And it makes Louis feel even sicker because he could be a spokesperson for this type of stuff—but he isn’t. He’s too afraid of everything that could go wrong and he hates himself for it. He can’t even join the _NO H8_ campaign because it scares him far too much to be a part of something like that.

So it isn’t even just his old management’s fault that he’s this deep in the closet. It’s partially his fault for not wanting to come out but it feels better to blame just them, even in the safety of his own mind, than face his own fears, his demons.

That’s why when he gets back to his house, he packs his bags and shoves them all in the backseat of his Porsche before he starts driving. His phone doesn’t stop going off and after fifteen minutes, he shuts it off completely.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing or why he’s doing it but right now he just can’t _think_. He feels like he can’t even breathe the air that’s around him and he needs to get far, far away from everything. He needs to get to somewhere where he can just sit and be _Louis_ for a while instead of Louis Tomlinson.

That’s how he ends up in Holmes Chapel in Cheshire. A year earlier, he bought a small house there although it’s more of a cottage than anything else. It was meant to be his summer home but then when his summer got booked, he just didn’t have the time to properly stay in it. It seems it’s time now because Louis ends up parking in the small driveway in front of the cottage.

There’s no one for miles—well, actually he thinks he might see a bungalow in the distance if he squints but considering that it’s dark and he’s tired, it’s entirely possible that he’s seeing things.

He doesn’t grab anything other than his phone and his keys when he gets out of the car and walks over to the door. It takes him a few minutes to find the right key and he realizes suits this thin are not proper wear for February in England.

When he finally gets the door open, he pushes through and he’s pleasantly surprised to find the house is still in fit shape. It’s been renovated and there’s similar furniture to his own London home. It makes him feel slightly better about his irrational trip there.

Louis makes his way towards the kitchen and when he checks the fridge, there’s nothing there. In the cupboards he finds a box of cereal but that’s it. Thankfully when he runs the faucet, the water is working properly.

After looking around some more, he ends up in the bedroom. There, he turns on his phone and winces when it starts buzzing repeatedly in his hands. He waits until it stops before opening the texting app and tapping out a quick text.

_You’ll never believe where I am …_

He gets a response immediately.

_well I’d love to kno ngl considerin ur mgmt has called even ME looking for you ! where the hell are you mate ? aha x_

Louis thinks that the _aha_ was unnecessary but then again it is Zayn so it isn’t all that surprising nor does it really matter.

_some random place called Holmes Chapel .. have you heard of it ?_

The reply is keyboard mash that Louis couldn’t decipher if his life depended on it but there’s another text following close after.

_sum place calld holmes chpl how do u SOUND u fuckin shithead, cnt believe ur here and ur just now tellin me ridik ! w/e me and li are comin first thing in the morn. also call ur mgmt dumbass ??!_

Louis snorts before he replies saying _okay okay!_ and then he goes to his contacts. He scrolls until he finds Shyla who’s probably the nicest person on his public relations team and he presses call.

She picks up on the first ring and the first thing she says is, “Where the _hell_ are you, Tomlinson?”

That’s not exactly reassuring since she is actually the nicest person on his team. He’s suddenly very glad he didn’t call Gemma. He also feels extremely bad because the people on his public relations team have always been there for him, through thick and thin.

“Such hostility, love,” Louis replies in an overly sweet voice because he doesn’t want to give away how hoarse it is and he can hear Shyla rolling her eyes over the phone.

“Don’t you start with me. Everyone is worried _sick_ and the press are having a field day! You quite literally just left in the middle of a movie premiere. You didn’t even get inside! Do you know how that looks?”

Louis feels slightly more bad then and he mumbles, “Yes, I’m sorry, Shyla. But I swear I have a good reason.” He pauses and takes a deep breath before saying, “I don’t think I can do this. I don’t know if I can deal with any of this—of like… my life right now. I don’t have a movie for two months so can I just—how about I just don’t?”

There’s a moment of a silence before Shyla replies, voice incredulous. “You’re telling me over the phone that you want a break while nobody knows where you are and you just handed a media scandal to the paparazzi on a silver platter?” she asks in disbelief and Louis nods sheepishly before he remembers she can’t see him.

“Er, yes? That’s exactly what I’m asking for. I’ve read my contracts over back and forth—I know I’m allowed to do this. So I’m doing it. It doesn’t matter where I am and what the media has to say about it because I really don’t care at this point. Plus, you guys can spin this, right? You’ve done it before and you can do it again, right?” he asks hopefully, trying to hide how helpless he feels.

Shyla makes a strange choked noise on the other end of the line. “Louis, love, you can’t just—you have responsibilities. Obligations. We have that party next week and the charity event the week after and—you can’t just bail on all of those.”

“I’m sorry but I have to. I don’t know if I can do any of those right now. Not when I’m in this state of mind. I—I don’t feel good and I need a clean break, Shyla. I need some time to myself. I feel really, really fucked up. I need to think about myself first.”

There’s another beat of silence before Shyla sighs quietly on the other end. “Couldn’t you have called one of the others? I really don’t want to give this news to Gemma or Ezgi or any of the others.”

Louis frowns before he apologizes, “I’m really sorry but I have to do this. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t have to. I don’t—I just feel like I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Shyla. I’m really sorry that you’re going to have to explain this to everyone else because I know I’m not making any sense. I don’t even know what I’m saying right now, honestly. But… this is something I need to do for me.” He falters before adding, “Sorry again.”

Then he hangs up before she can say anything else.

He sits there for a few minutes and thinks about what he just did. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this—he can’t explain himself but all he knows is that if he doesn’t, he’ll end up breaking down and doing something even more stupid and reckless than leaving in the middle of a movie premiere. He doesn’t want that. He isn’t going to do that to himself.

No, Louis is just going to breathe and hope that maybe for once, it’ll be enough.

—

“What am I even supposed to get?” Louis hisses into his phone, watching the aisle carefully for any nosy observers that may happen to walk by. “I don’t do my own groceries Liam, I don’t know how this works.”

Liam laughs on the other end because clearly this is amusing for him even though it’s anything _but_ amusing to Louis. “Just some food that you can live off for the next few days, Lou. We’ll go grocery shopping together this weekend.”

“Liam, I can’t do this,” Louis protests a bit too loudly and a woman in her sixties at the end of the aisle gives him a dark look. Louis is suddenly very glad for his half-assed disguise which consists of a pair of shades too big for his face, a dark colored beanie and what Zayn referred to as an infinity scarf wrapped around his neck. “I’m honestly going to die in this grocery store if you don’t save me.”

“I know you’re an actor but do you have to be so bloody dramatic?” Liam complains but it comes across as fond. Before Louis can snap at him anyways, the younger man clears his throat. “Sorry, I’ve got to go, I’ve got a Skype meeting but I’ll see you later today, yeah? Bye, Lou.”

And then the line goes silent.

Louis glares at his phone before pocketing it roughly in his sweatpants.

He stares long and hard at the different brands of bread in front of him before grunting to himself and just dumping three different brands in his cart. He can afford it, it’ll be fine. It might earn him a few snide remarks from the girl at the register and probably Zayn too but Louis can’t be bothered to care.

Apparently it’s going to earn him a few snide remarks from the bloke that’s come up beside him too because Louis can almost _feel_ the man’s judgmental gaze burning a hole into the side of his head.

Louis is prepared to just make a snarky comment and then run for it when he catches sight of the man and his feet feel almost frozen in place. It’s a good thing too because his knees might give out any second now.

He’s _gorgeous_. He has long, curly brown hair just past his shoulders and eyes that are green enough to be considered the color of lily pads. His lips are the color of strawberries and they’re pulled into an amused smile that causes dimples to sink into either side of his cheeks. His nose is an even slope, his jaw is defined and his exposed collarbones are prominent.

Louis has no idea how long he’s been staring but it’s clearly enough for the man to decide to speak up. “You must really like bread,” he says, eyes lit up and teeth pressing into his bottom lip. His voice is slow and sweet like molasses and Louis is captivated without meaning to be.

“What?” Louis wonders before he remembers the catastrophe that is his grocery cart. He flushes and hopes the man can’t see beneath Louis’ scarf. “Oh, yeah. I—yeah. I really like bread.”

The man hums and smiles again before he reaches forward and takes an entirely different brand of bread. “This is my favorite,” he informs and Louis can see the mirth visible in his eyes.

“Might as well add it to my cart then,” he replies dryly but secretly, he hopes the man can handle a bit of banter.

“Might as well,” the man agrees, dropping the new brand in Louis’ cart too. Then the man pauses and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Do I know you?”

Louis’ heart starts to beat hard in his chest and he feels worry grip his insides. Has this man recognized him? Should he just run for it right now?

The man seems to realize that Louis has gone into a bit of a panic because his hands immediately raise up, palms forward in a general ‘calm down’ gesture. “Sorry, sorry! I’m always—sorry. We just don’t get a lot of new people around here. Everyone knows everyone. It’s weird to see a new face,” he apologizes immediately and he actually looks sincere enough that Louis’ heartbeat regulates. “Or part of a new face since you’re a bit—covered,” he adds on, almost hesitantly now.

Louis lets out a breathy, nervous laugh in reply and shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry, uh. No, we don’t know each other.”

The man nods like he expected this and then he holds his hand out. Louis stares blankly at it (and even admires it for a brief moment, how long his fingers are, the slope of his knuckles, the ring he has on his middle finger, the tattoo peeking out of the man’s jumper; the words _I CAN’T CHANGE_ on his wrist) before he realizes the man wants him to shake it.

Louis licks his lips indecisively but eventually reaches out and takes the man’s hand in his own gloved one. He took special care to cover every part of his body lest a recognizable tattoo is what gets him in trouble.

“I’m Harry,” the man says, smiling again. He has a beautiful smile.

Just as Louis is about to open his mouth and introduce himself, he realizes what a bad idea that is. He quickly rips his hand away from Harry’s and pretends to look at his wrist where there most definitely isn’t a watch. “And I’m late,” he informs apologetically before turning abruptly on his heel in the opposite direction, towards the registers. Screw his groceries. “Sorry!” he calls behind himself, wincing a little when he sees Harry’s shocked expression.

He doesn’t dare to stop though, keeps on walking and then dumps all four brands of bread onto the counter along with a packet of sliced cheese. “I’d like to check this out, please,” he mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

The girl raises her eyebrows at him—her name is Melly if her nametag is anything to go by—and Louis simply gestures to the bread instead of bothering to try to explain himself.

Eventually, she starts checking his things out and placing them in a flimsy plastic bag but even as she does that, she’s still continues to stare at him curiously from the corner of her eye.

Louis would offer her a consoling smile except that would require taking off his scarf and he’s not even sure how he got it on in the first place.

“Your total is ten pounds,” Melly informs, tone blatantly curious and Louis belatedly realizes he has no money on his person and all his credit cards say his name.

With a sigh after he takes a cursory look around, Louis reaches up and takes off his glasses while rancorously pulling his scarf down.

Melly’s mouth falls open, her eyes widening in disbelief and Louis shakes his head quickly, pressing his finger against his lips in a _shhh_ gesture.

“Sorry,” he apologizes immediately, feeling slightly self-conscious. This goes against all the media training classes he’s ever had to take. “Could you please not tell anyone you saw me?”

“I—er, you’re—wow. This is happening. Alright, cool,” Melly mumbles, looking incredulous. She’s blinking rapidly at him but at least she isn’t screaming. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Louis offers his most charming smile before reaching into his pocket and pulling his wallet out. He slides his credit card over the counter which she takes slowly, clearly still in shock.

It doesn’t take long for her to hand him the card back but before she does, she falters and offers him a hesitant smile, “Your last movie was really good. I hope you enjoy your stay in Holmes Chapel.”

This time, Louis smiles back genuinely at her. “Thank you. I hope so too.”

She mimics zipping her mouth shut before handing him both the card and his grocery bag of four different breads. It’s clear that she’s over being starstruck because then she winks at him in a playful manner and Louis can’t help but laugh in return.

Later, when he’s walking home (because driving his fancy sports car would probably draw more attention than he strictly wants), he thinks back to Harry’s sparkling green eyes and cherry red lips.

Maybe Holmes Chapel is exactly what Louis needed all along.

—

“Explain this to me one more time,” Zayn insists, eyes crinkling with laughter. Louis debates throwing a pillow at him. “ _Why_ did you buy four different kinds of bread?”

“Maybe I just fucking love bread,” Louis snaps and kicks Liam when he laughs. “You don’t know my life story, Zayn.”

“No, that’s the thing babes. I do,” Zayn replies in amusement and then bony knees are digging into Louis’ calves as Zayn squeezes into the space between Louis and Liam in the pillow fort that Louis may or may not have made in the living room. “Come on, tell us the real reason,” he urges and Liam nods beside him eagerly.

Louis really missed the two of them.

He remembers being sixteen and thinking the world was his for the taking. He remembers Zayn running lines with him and he remembers Liam driving him to rehearsals. He remembers the three of them sitting in Liam’s backyard, discussing their dreams and their plans.

 _I want my name on billboard signs,_ Louis had said. _I want my face plastered all over Times Square. I want everyone to know my name. I want to do something, I want to be something. I want to change lives. I want to change the whole world. And I’m going to do it._

 _We know_ , is what Liam and Zayn had replied, matching smiles on their faces. _We believe in you_.

Even back then, when it seemed impossible, they believed in him and Louis truly believes that’s part of why he is where he is today. He couldn’t have done any of it without their love and support.

When Louis was whisked away to the world he’d always dreamed of, he left Liam and Zayn behind but kept them in his heart. Not that he had much of a choice with their weekly skype sessions and daily text messages. They wouldn’t let him leave them behind even if he wanted to and it’s good because he never wants to.

While Louis was busy filming award winning movies, his best friends were busy falling in love and Louis is sad that he wasn’t there to witness it firsthand because he always knew it would happen. What he still doesn’t know is why Liam and Zayn chose this place to settle down; this small, quirky town by the name of Holmes Chapel.

Every time he asks, Liam will smile and twist aimlessly at the ring on his left hand before shrugging. “Just seemed right,” he’ll say. Zayn never gives him an answer because he’s too busy smiling at Liam to do much of anything else.

They’re happy though and that’s what matters to Louis. Louis will live his extravagant, complicated celebrity life and his best friends will live their simple, domestic everyday lives. As long as everyone’s happy, it all works out.

Except maybe Louis isn’t as happy as he likes to pretend.

“No reason,” Louis mumbles when he remembers Zayn’s question. “Didn’t know what to buy. Just panicked is all.”

Zayn’s amusement fades then and his eyebrows get that ‘v’ that Liam is always smoothing over with his thumb. Louis hopes he’ll do it right now because there’s no way they’re having this conversation today. He’s not ready for it.

Thankfully, Liam seems to understand because his eyes are a warm brown when they meet Louis’ before he whispers something in Zayn’s ear that Louis can’t hear no matter how hard he strains.

It clears up the expression on Zayn’s face though and that means that it’s good enough for Louis.

“I missed you,” he says to them without meaning to.

Seconds later, he’s encompassed by a warm body on either side and he feels a kiss pressed against the crown of his head. “We missed you too,” Liam promises, squeezing tightly around Louis’ middle.

“Whatever’s wrong, we’ll figure it out,” Zayn whispers so quietly that Louis almost misses it. “You’ll be alright.”

Louis doesn’t say a word, just digs his fingers into their shirts and pulls them tighter, wishing he never had to let go.

“You’ll be alright,” Zayn repeats and Louis hopes with every part of him that he’s right.

—

When the doorbell rings, Louis is the closest to the door and that means he has to open it. It’s been a rule since all of three of them were twelve and Liam had just moved to London and was the new kid that Zayn had taken to.

With a sigh, Louis gets to his feet and moves to get the door before faltering. The only two people that know where he is are the ones currently sat in his living room playing a game of FIFA on his PlayStation.

Neither Liam nor Zayn make any movement to acknowledge the situation at hand so Louis slowly tiptoes over to the window before pulling back the curtain just enough so he can see whoever’s at the door. He’s worried he’ll see twenty paps hiding in the bushes but instead there’s a blond man standing there by himself.

Louis squints suspiciously but drops the curtain back before walking over to the door. He takes a deep breath before opening it just a crack so only one of his eyes peeks out. “May I help you?” he asks, deepening his voice in a poor effort to conceal his identity.

“Yeah, hey mate, I’m Niall! You’ve just moved in, yeah?” he asks cheerfully.

After a moment’s hesitation, Louis confirms, “Yeah, just a few days ago.”

Niall laughs and Louis frowns at him, unsure what he said that was funny. He doesn’t get a chance to ask though because the blond man speaks up before he can. “I just figured we’d come be the first of the bunch and bring you some homemade cookies,” he explains.

Louis looks down at his empty hands before looking back up at his face. “Cookies?”

“Right, sorry,” Niall laughs again before gesturing behind him. “My mate Harry’s just really slow. Harry, hurry up!”

 _Harry_. The name rings a bell and it’s because Louis heard it just a day ago. He almost puts it off to coincidence before he remembers that they’re in Holmes Chapel and not London. He doubts there’s all that many Harrys running around.

As if fate’s listening to him, a familiar man comes running down the pathway leading to Louis’ doorstep. “Jesus, Niall, you couldn’t have waited two minutes for me?” Harry complains, pouting and holding a basket of cookies out. He’s also wearing pink mittens.

Louis is far too endeared for his own good.

“Well if you didn’t take so long—” Niall starts but then stops when Harry glares harshly at him. “Alright, sorry, sorry. Don’t get your panties into a twist.”

Harry just sighs as if this is completely normal before his eyes fall on the door and the half of Louis’ face that’s visible. “Don’t mind this one,” he says, grinning and Louis feels his knees buckle at the sight of his dimples. “I—er, baked you some cookies. As a welcoming gift.”

Louis fish mouths for a second and then he nods dumbly. He opens the door further so he can reach out to take a cookie before he realizes his mistake and stops halfway.

Neither Niall nor Harry look surprised though which is confusing because Louis likes to think he has a somewhat recognizable face.

With a frown on his face, Louis grabs a cookie from the basket. “Thanks, I guess,” he says slowly, not making an effort to deepen his voice anymore.

“Well it’s not every bloody day Louis Tomlinson moves to Holmes Chapel,” Niall jokes, swinging a casual arm around Harry’s shoulder who’s staring at him oddly now. “The least we could do is bake you cookies.”

If there was a reply on Louis’ lips, it’s dead now. He’d scoured the internet just an hour ago to make sure that where he was staying hadn’t leaked yet and from what he’d seen, it hadn’t. Clearly the internet was mistaken.

“Hey,” Harry starts, tilting his head curiously and Louis blinks, realizing his gaze was set on Harry’s lips. “Are you the bloke from the grocery store? You sound like him.”

With nervous laugh, Louis mutters, “Guilty,” and takes a bite of the cookie, more out of need to keep his mouth occupied than anything else.

Harry lets out something like a giggle then and consequently Louis’ heart stops beating in his chest. “Hope you’re enjoying your bread then?”

“Shut up,” Louis complains through a mouthful of crumbs before swallowing. “You didn’t have to add another brand. I was vulnerable and you took advantage of my lack of skill in grocery shopping.” Then he blinks down at the cookie in his head. “Holy shit, this is _really_ good.”

“Harry works at the bakery,” Niall puts in before smirking and nudging Harry playfully, “His favorite line to use is ‘I’d bake your buns any day’ and he claims that it works every time.”

Seconds later, Louis watches as Harry elbows Niall sharply back with an ever-present smile on his face. “Did you hear something?”

Louis laughs before he can help himself and shakes his head. “Of course not,” he assures, wondering if it’s possible to be this taken with a person after such a short time.

When Harry winks at him, Louis has to clutch the door tightly lest he falls over. He knows it doesn’t mean anything but also Harry is the prettiest man he’s had the pleasure of meeting in a long, long time.

Quickly changing the subject, Louis gestures towards the cookies again. “You’ve still got mittens on. Do you two live nearby?”

Niall is the one to answer, nodding his head in confirmation before abruptly shaking his head. “Er, not really. Harry’s mum and step-dad live in the house that’s an acre behind your cottage but they’re not home so we borrowed their kitchen,” he explains, looking to Harry who nods in agreement. “Harry and I live together in a flat further in town because it’s closer to uni.”

Louis nods in understanding although he’s really the last person to understand. He never went to university. The year he was supposed to start was the year that his career took off, only eighteen.

“You came all the way here to bring me some cookies?” Louis asks then, leaning a hip against the door and feeling a smile pull at his lips as he watches Harry nod.

“It wasn’t that much trouble, honestly,” Harry mumbles, shrugging slightly. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

That makes Louis’ lips pull into a full smile and before he can say anything, Niall clears his throat, eyebrows raised pointedly. Louis hopes the heat warming his cheeks isn’t too dark or visible.

“That’s lovely, Haz,” Niall says, patting a bashful Harry on the back gently before turning back to Louis. “So… since you’re new to town, we thought we’d invite you to our mate Ed’s barbeque bonfire thing Friday night. It’ll be really chilled out, maybe ten people and Ed always has really good booze.”

It takes a moment for the offer to sink in but when it does, Louis has to push down the excitement crawling up his throat. “It’s February though,” he reminds, “it’s freezing out.”

“Perfect weather for a bonfire,” Niall reasons, shrugging noncommittally.

Louis honestly considers it for a second, watching Harry’s glittering eyes and tentative smile. Then he remembers he’s supposed to be incognito.

“You don’t have to,” Harry murmurs suddenly, as though he knows what Louis is thinking. His eyes are soft with understanding now. “We just thought we’d invite you anyways, in case you wanted to come.”

In a way, that makes Louis feel worse when he opens his mouth to decline because Harry is so sweet and understanding. Before he can though, there’s someone pushing the door open wider and resting an arm on his shoulder.

“Invite him where?” Liam asks curiously, eyes wide with curiosity.

Louis doesn’t know where he came from but he has a feeling Liam isn’t as oblivious to what’s going on as he’s making it seem. “A bonfire,” he answers before Harry or Niall can. “But I shouldn’t—”

“He’d love to come!” Liam interrupts, completely ignoring Louis’ shocked expression in favor of addressing Niall and Harry. “Where is it? Zayn and I can show him where to go.”

As though he’d been listening in—which wouldn’t surprise Louis—Zayn appears at the sound of his name and rests his chin against Liam’s shoulder. “Where are we going, babe?”

“Louis’ neighbors just invited him to a bonfire!” Liam exclaims, gesturing towards the two men in front of them who are looking on with thinly veiled amusement. “Isn’t that sweet?”

Louis doesn’t know what he ever did for his best friends to be sabotaging his life this way but clearly he must’ve done something terrible. There’s no way he deserves to be this embarrassed without having done something wrong. Maybe it was in a past life and he’s paying for it now. This is the only explanation.

“You can both come too,” offers Harry, still smiling and those words are the worst thing to come out of his mouth thus far. “You’re the couple that lives a few blocks down from Babs, aren’t you? You should definitely come. It’s at Ed’s on Friday night.”

Beside him, Niall nods in agreement. “Yeah, Ed would love that. It’s usually just us lads. He loves having other people over to show off his grill skills to. The more the merrier.”

“We would love to,” Liam declares, clapping his hands together delightedly and jostling Zayn who grumbles a little in protest.

It’s then that Louis realizes that his best friend may just be an evil genius.

“Are the cookies for Lou too?” Liam asks, after pressing a chaste apologetic kiss to Zayn’s jaw. Louis is still busy gaping at their blatant disregard of him in this situation. “You really shouldn’t have.”

Harry shrugs, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes with one hand before he seems to realize he’s still got mittens on. He then holds the basket of cookies out for Liam to take which he does. “I just thought he’d want company as sweet as him.”

“That was awful,” Niall mutters but Louis is too busy flushing to notice or to care.

“Well you’re quite the charmer,” Zayn comments and when Louis turns to look at him, his eyes are twinkling with mirth that makes Louis worry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t seem to catch your name?”

“Harry. Styles. Uh, like not just Harry. Harry Styles. Yeah,” Harry mumbles while biting his lip, looking slightly self-conscious as he gestures to Niall, clearly diverting their attention. “And this is Niall Horan.”

Zayn makes a noise of assent before giving Liam a look. They have a conversation with their eyes as they often do. Louis has long since stopped trying to follow these conversations because he’s left in this dust more often than not.

“We’ll see you on Friday,” Liam says after a moment, arm falling off Louis’ shoulder and to his side as he leans against Zayn’s chest. “It was nice to meet you both, Harry and Niall.”

“Likewise,” Niall agrees and his expression is still amused as he tugs on Harry’s elbow, turning to leave. “See you on Friday.”

Louis is still too baffled at the fact that plans are being made that include him despite him being right there. He isn’t sure what just happened but he’s almost positive that he doesn’t like it.

Before he can close the door and start yelling, Harry calls from the end of the pathway, “Bye Louis! Can’t wait to see you on Friday!”

“Bye,” Louis says but it comes out as a murmur. Harry doesn’t seem to care though as he grins and waves with his pink mittens on.

Louis watches them leave, seemingly turning smaller and smaller until they reach the house that’s across the wide expanse of land between him and the closest residence of living.

He turns around then, expecting to see Zayn and Liam watching him smugly but neither of them are there. He’s standing alone in his doorway watching Harry’s parents’ home in the distance like a loon. Somehow his life has gotten to this point.

“Oi, arseholes!” Louis shouts when he manages to clear his head, slamming the door behind him. “What the fuck was that?”

Zayn looks up from where he’s sitting on the couch with a book on his lap and he has a bored expression on. “What was what?”

Louis narrows his eyes. “You know what.”

That’s when Liam comes back from the kitchen, still holding the basket of cookies. “What’s wrong, Lou?”

“We— _you_ agreed!” Louis reminds, gesturing wildly to the closed door. “We don’t even know them!”

Liam furrows his eyebrows and cocks his head to the side. “But you met Harry at the grocery store, didn’t you?” he wonders and Louis’ mouth drops open in surprise as he realizes that Liam had been listening into the conversation longer than he’d originally thought.

At Liam’s words, Zayn immediately sits up straighter. “Is _that_ why you bought four brands of bread?”

“No,” Louis protests too quickly but at Zayn’s disbelieving look, he clears his throat and repeats, “No,” and then once more, slowly, “No.”

“Saying no three times only makes me believe you less,” Zayn informs, eyes narrowed. “So what is the truth then?”

“They seemed genuine,” Liam tries, saving Louis from answering. Then he sits down next to Zayn whom he offers a cookie from the basket. “I’ve seen Harry at Babs’ bakery. He’s a really nice bloke. Bakes really well too.”

Louis can’t believe they’re even having this conversation. “I don’t know if you two missed the memo, but I’m in _hiding_!” he reminds in a high pitched voice that’s bordering on hysterical. “I don’t care how ‘sick’ he is! Or how well he bakes!”

Zayn’s reply is to chew thoughtfully and nod approvingly at Liam. “This cookie is ace. Remind me to drop by the bakery more often.”

He reaches for another cookie while Louis watches on in exasperated frustration. “Zayn, this is _serious_. I can’t just go out and about!”

“Niall said there wouldn’t be that many people,” Liam reminds before patting the seat on the couch next to him. “It’ll be fine, Lou. You can’t just stay cooped up in here for two months.”

“Just watch me,” Louis grumbles but plops down beside Liam on the couch and reaches over to grab a cookie. Instead, his hand closes around something that decidedly isn’t a cookie.

He blinks in befuddlement and pulls out what looks to be a business card but instead, all that’s written on it is _Niall Horan_ with a series of digits and _Harry Styles_ with a similar series of digits. He flips the card over and it says _In case you need something, let either of us know! You’re part of the town now .xx_

“Well isn’t that just sweet,” Zayn croons, snatching the card out of Louis’ hand. “Are you going to text Harry then?”

“You should,” Liam adds, curiously peering over Zayn’s shoulder at the card. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen anyone. Harry seems like he’d be good for you. Definitely text him.”

“No,” Louis grinds out before crossing his arms and pouting. “And I’m not going to that bonfire either.”

Zayn hums skeptically but doesn’t say anything else. That’s how Louis knows it’s a losing battle.

—

He goes to the bonfire.

It’s Friday evening and he’s standing outside the Ed bloke’s house, wrapped up in a coat that he had to have shipped to his cottage because he didn’t have the foresight to pack clothes fit for winter. He was supposed to be in Los Angeles today and then Australia next week, perhaps working on his tan.

Instead, he’s in Holmes Chapel, swaddled in a scarf and beanie.

Louis sighs and his breath comes out as a cold puff of air.

For the better part of ten minutes, he’s been debating whether or not he wants to actually go. Liam and Zayn said they’d meet him later because they’ve got things to do so here he is, by himself, unsure as to why he decided to listen to them.

Eventually because he feels like a twat just standing there, he works up the courage to ring the doorbell. What he doesn’t expect is for someone to yell, “Out here, mate!” from behind the house.

Louis blinks but he follows the sound of the voice until he gets to the backyard. There’s half a dozen people standing around what looks to be a bonfire in the works. There’s a ginger at the grill, wearing a ridiculous white chef’s hat and when Louis patters onto the stonework, he looks up with a friendly smile.

“Hey, you must be Louis! Saw you in that one movie once, I think!” the man shouts in greeting. “Don’t worry, no one here’s going to give out your location or anything, Harry told us you’re trying to stay on the low.”

A surge of affection runs through Louis and he nods his head, feeling slightly more at ease. “Thanks, that means a lot.”

The man nods, grinning brighter now. Whatever he’s cooking smells really good. It’s been a long time since Louis’ been to a barbeque. “I’m Ed by the way,” he introduces before hitching a thumb towards the others, “And the tossers over there can introduce themselves. Harry and Niall went off to get some more wood but they’ll be back any minute.”

“In the forest?” Louis asks, eyebrows raised as he gazes out at the expanse of trees further down Ed’s backyard.

Ed gives him a weird look before his face smoothes over and he lets out a laugh. “Too used to the city life, aren’t you? Holmes Chapel will change that.”

Then he turns around and goes back to flipping whatever’s on the grill, leaving Louis standing there feeling vaguely distraught.

“Louis!” someone yells, snapping him out of his momentary troubled moment. “You came!”

It’s Harry and he’s coming up with two beers and a grin that stretches across his face.

“I did,” Louis agrees with his own lips turning up. Harry hands him one of the beers which he takes easily. “You don’t seem surprised.”

Harry shrugs a shoulder, eyes twinkling and Louis notices his outfit then. He’s wearing an unbuttoned coat over a t-shirt and jeans with holes at the knees. It doesn’t makes sense to Louis how he’s _not_ cold.

Maybe living in his Los Angeles home more often than his London home is fucking with his brain.

“Come on,” Harry murmurs, throwing a casual arm around Louis’ shoulder that may or may not cause his heart to skip a beat in his chest. “I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

After he’s met everyone, including Melly from the grocery story who if Louis saw correctly seemed to be flirting with Niall (unless Louis’ eyes are betraying him), Harry leads them over to a large wooden log.

Louis raises an eyebrow. “Why are we all the way back here?” he wonders but sits down next to Harry anyways and then scoots over just slightly because Harry is like a furnace and Louis is cold. The beer helps to keep him warm only minimally.

Harry tilts his head to the side and smiles crookedly. “Is it a problem?”

“Suppose not,” Louis allows and wraps his jacket around himself tighter before turning his focus on Harry and pursing his lips. It’s a bit of a risk but he decides to ask anyways, “So what’s your story, Harry Styles of Holmes Chapel?”

Harry blinks, holding the beer bottle up to his mouth and drinking languidly before licking his lips slowly. “Not much to tell, is there? Nothing compared to yours, I bet.”

“Hey,” Louis protests, bumping shoulders with Harry, his own drink sloshing in his hand. “That doesn’t mean it’s not worth telling.”

The look Harry gives him in reply warms Louis right down to his toes and he nearly shivers in surprise. “There’s more to you than meets the eye, isn’t there?” Harry asks quietly and his eyes are alight, dancing with fire.

“That’s for you to decide,” Louis replies coolly as he takes a sip of his beer even though he feels anything but cool right now. He feels warm to the bone.

Louis watches as Harry hums quietly, eyes observant as they roam Louis’ face before he slumps his shoulders, loosening up almost. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s Louis’ words. “I’m Harry Styles, I’m twenty one years old, currently studying law in uni and also, I’m a cat person,” he declares, cheeks dimpling.

He has a sweet smile. It makes Louis want to smile too.

“That’s not your story,” Louis protests mildly, nudging Harry again and setting his beer between his legs. “Tell me more.”

Harry giggles quietly. “Demanding,” he teases but continues anyways after taking a sip of his own beer. “I’ve lived here pretty much my whole life with my mum and sister. My mum and dad divorced when I was seven and now he lives up north with his new wife. It’s fine though, mum’s remarried now to my stepdad Robin. It’s weird because it’s supposed to be me that goes away and leaves her with an empty nest, isn’t it? But instead since Robin works primarily in London, it’s her that left because she’s usually there with him.”

Ignoring the guilty pang he feels when he thinks of his own family that he visits twice a year, he asks, “Do you miss her?” and takes another drink from his bottle to keep thoughts of his own mum at bay.

“Of course I do,” Harry replies and then he looks away from Louis, up towards the sky with a thoughtful expression. “But she’s happy. Robin makes her really happy and that’s all I can really ask for. I’m moving to London this summer with Niall though and starting up uni there so it all works out.”

“That sounds nice,” Louis comments, tilting his head back to see what has Harry so entrapped. He’s a little surprised when he looks up and sees hundreds of stars in the sky. In London, he sees maybe one or two when he looks up. He loses his train of thought for a moment but when he remembers, he clears his throat and looks back down. “London’s a nice place to live.”

“Yeah, I’ve been there,” Harry replies, sounding a lot more excited now. “London’s quite big—”

Louis isn’t sure why but that makes him laugh really hard. Maybe it’s because he’s a little drunk but he can’t help but mock Harry’s monotonous voice, “London’s _quite_ big.”

“No, I mean, it’s quite small,” Harry tries but Louis is still laughing too hard to pay attention. “You can get lost there—”

“What are you even talking about?” Louis protests through his giggles, shaking his head. “You do talk some shit, mate.”

“ _Heyyyy_ ,” Harry complains, drawing the word out. “You’re the one who asked for my life story.”

“Yeah, I asked for your life story. I didn’t ask for me grandmum to tell me that London’s quite big,” Louis retorts, grinning so wide he feels his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Harry pouts, shoving Louis and because he has the mentality of a child, Louis shoves back. Apparently he’s stronger than he thought because Harry goes flailing and Louis has to reach out and grab the front of his shirt before he can fall off the log.

“You clumsy oaf,” he mumbles but then he’s laughing breathlessly and seconds later, Harry joins in.

It’s been a long time since Louis has laughed that carelessly, so hard that it makes his eyes tear and his stomach hurt but he can’t stop, leaning against Harry who lets small giggles slip every few seconds.

Finally, he manages to catch his breath and he realizes how close he and Harry are. Immediately, he leans back but he does it subtly enough that the light doesn’t fade from Harry’s eyes when he looks over, clutching his beer.

“I’ve always been really clumsy,” Harry says then, a little breathless and Louis has the strangest urge to reach forward and kiss him until his own lungs run out of oxygen.

He immediately banishes that thought from his head and presses one of his knees against Harry’s. “Should’ve known, a giraffe like you.”

Harry squawks indignantly. “Giraffe? I’m _at least_ a unicorn. Maybe a butterfly.”

“Those aren’t even remotely similar!” Louis protests, setting his beer between his legs again. He feels something electric running through his veins, making him feel giddy.

It seems Harry has moved on though because he turns to Louis then, taking a swig of his beer before setting it down on the ground and looking at him with bright, glittering eyes. “Do you want to hear a joke? I made it up when I was seven.”

Louis furrows his eyebrows. “I’m not sure. Do I?”

Harry nods eagerly and Louis knows that means the joke is going to be terrible. Despite knowing that, he shrugs and says, “Go for it.”

“Why did the baboon ask the giraffe ‘why the long face’?” Harry asks, pressing closer.

Louis can smell cologne on him, something he recognizes as Bleu De Chanel after having promoted it once. There’s another smell there, something bitter but enticing all the same and Louis is having a hard time picking out what it is. He wonders if it would be socially acceptable to lean in and nose along the path of Harry’s jawline, trying to figure out the smell.

“Why?” Louis replies when he remembers Harry was telling him a joke.

“Because he thought the giraffe’s neck was his face!” Harry exclaims loudly and the few people that are sitting down on a log nearby groan and throw paper cups Harry’s way.

Harry doesn’t seem to notice, still watching for Louis’ reaction.

Louis studies him for a second before shaking his head and saying, “That was the worst joke I’ve ever heard in my life,” but it comes out far too fond. “You’re so fucking strange.”

“I think you need a little strange in your life, Louis Tomlinson,” Harry whispers and the air between them feels charged with electricity. It fades into something more soft when Harry leans back, resting his palms against the damp grass. “So what about your life story?”

Louis blinks and he feels like he’s just been pulled out of a Harry-induced haze back to reality where he’s a closeted award winning actor who can’t even manage to call up his family and tell them where he’s disappeared off to.

“Anything you want to know about the story of my life can be found through a Google search,” Louis replies and he wonders if he sounds as tired as he feels.

It’s not that he regrets becoming a famous actor because he doesn’t. He never will because this is his dream and he gets to do it as a job. He doubts many people can say that.

He just wishes someone had told him about the baggage that came with all of it. He still would’ve done everything he did but at least he would’ve been more prepared for it.

“That’s not true,” Harry argues, tilting his head to give Louis a scrutinizing look that he isn’t sure he appreciates. “What about your family?”

“What about them?” Louis retorts, reaching for his bear and taking a large drink of it. He’s both too intoxicated and not intoxicated enough for the conversation that they’re having.

“Tell me about them,” insists Harry, a curious expression on his face. “You’ve got about half a dozen siblings, don’t you?”

Maybe it’s because he misses them awfully much but Louis nods his head. Usually he won’t discuss his family with anyone that isn’t Zayn or Liam who firsthand know them. “Seven, actually.”

Harry keeps staring at him expectantly so Louis takes a deep breath before setting his drink down. “They’re all half-siblings. My real dad fucked off when I was about ten days old but I’ve got a half-sister on his side. Her name’s Georgia. I’ve only met her maybe twice though.” He stops and looks over at Harry to see if he’ll interrupt or give him a look of pity.

Instead he’s almost pleased to find that Harry is watching him with a complacent look and patient eyes. It makes him want to keep talking.

“My mum got married to my stepdad Mark a while later though. Then she had my sister Lottie who’s sixteen now. After that was Fizzy or Felicite as she prefers to go by these days. Mum had the twins a while later, Daisy and Phoebe. Life wasn’t the easiest when I was younger, there were lots of rough days. Mum worked long shifts at hospital as a nurse and I took care of my sisters the best that I could because they mean… _everything_ to me, you know? It seemed like it was all working out but then Mark and my mum divorced.”

He stops, staring down at his lap resolutely and tries to calm the frenzy that’s taken over his brain at the painful memories. He reminds himself to breathe although that plan goes to shit almost immediately as he inhales sharply when he feels a gloved hand takes his.

He turns to look at Harry but the younger man still doesn’t say anything, just squeezes gently.

“Right,” he whispers before exhaling quietly. “Yeah. My mum and Mark fought over… some things. I’d rather not talk about it. But he left, the same way my real dad did and it was just me, mum and the girls. We all did everything we could to make it easier on my mum, you know? She deserves the world and back then, I didn’t know how to get it for her.”

His eyes are dry but he wipes at them anyways with the hand Harry isn’t holding before continuing. “Luckily for all of us, Mum met Dan, my new stepdad. They just had twins last year, Doris and Ernest. Ernie’s my first brother. I always wanted a younger brother. I’ve got one now but I’m never really home,” he says, a little wistful.

“I’ve always wanted a brother too,” Harry interjects and it’s the first words that he’s said since Louis started speaking. It nearly makes Louis jump out of his skin. “Suppose I’ll have to settle for a son.”

“Aren’t you a bit too young to be thinking about kids?” Louis quips, thankful for the subject change. There’s a reason he doesn’t talk about his family a lot.

“I’m twenty one,” Harry reminds with furrowed eyebrows as if that’s a _lot_ or something.

Louis snorts, shaking his head. “You’re an overgrown manchild that tells lame jokes, babe.”

“At least I can do my own groceries,” Harry grumbles and he lets go of Louis’ hand to cross his arms petulantly. Louis raises an eyebrow at him and Harry sticks his tongue out.

“Manchild,” Louis repeats and seconds later, Harry is setting down his beer and chasing Louis around the fire pit because he actually is a child.

It’s the most fun Louis’ had in a long time and later that night, before he leaves with Zayn and Liam, Harry whispers, “You’re a really strong person. Google couldn’t have told me that.”

When Louis is falling asleep that night, he finds himself wishing he could’ve met Harry when he was eighteen and the world felt like it was crumbling. He could’ve used someone like him back then.

But maybe Liam is right. Maybe he needs someone like Harry right now too.

—

He calls his mum the next day and nearly breaks into tears at the sound of her voice. He tells her that he’s fine and that he just needs some time to himself. He tells her that he’s in Holmes Chapel and then declines her offer to come down and visit him. He tells her he misses her and the girls and of course, Ernie. He tells her that he just needs to find himself and she doesn’t argue it. He almost tells her that he wishes she didn’t understand as well as she does. It just reminds him how many hardships his mum’s had to deal with. In the end, he doesn’t say anything at all. Instead, he promises to come visit her before his break is over and then hangs up after saying he loves her.

It’s more progress than he would’ve made if it hadn’t been for Harry but he doesn’t tell anyone else that. That’s for him to know and for him to be grateful for. Him alone.

—

Louis is a little embarrassed when he texts Niall for the first time and it’s just to ask what the address of the bakery is.

He gets a reply back almost immediately and it says, _yeh can’t believe it took you this long t ask hahahha here ya go tommo x_ followed by the address. Evidently Niall has been talking to Liam and Zayn.

With a sigh, Louis pockets his phone in his coat and heads out. He’s become a little less paranoid of being caught in the streets because Harry assured him no one in town will leak any information about him staying there.

He makes it to the bakery in less time than he anticipated and he finds that he doesn’t know what to say. He supposes he could go inside and order something but that feels like it’s not enough.

Eventually he comes to realization that he’s overthinking it because it won’t really matter in the grand scheme of things and also that he’s been standing outside the bakery for at least five minutes just staring at the door.

This town is turning him crazy.

Louis pushes the door to the bakery open and hears the sound of a melodic bell ring above his head. When he gets inside, there’s three people inside the bakery aside from the elderly woman sitting at the register.

He shuffles up the counter a little self-consciously because he hadn’t prepared for the option that Harry might not be working the front.

“Hello sweetheart, what can I get you?” greets the grey haired woman, smiling kindly. His eyes flicker down to her nametag which reads _Barbara_ and he realizes this must be Babs.

“A scone will be fine, thank you,” he says quietly, pulling out a tenner in advance. He actually remembered to take some actual money with him this time.

She nods, still smiling as she moves to get it. When she comes back, she’s holding a scone out on a plate. Louis realizes belatedly he didn’t tell her that it was to-go.

Unwilling to inconvenience her, he accepts the plate and slides the tenner across the counter.

“Keep it,” he tells her when she tries to hand him back the change.

She frowns quizzically at him before her eyes light up suddenly with understanding. “Oh my, you’re that actor fellow Harry was telling us about, aren’t you? Lewis, was it?”

“Louis,” he corrects gently and then flushes as he realizes Harry’s been talking about him. “Harry said something?”

“Nothing bad of course!” she’s quick to assure, wiping her hands off on her apron and smiling even wider. “He said you were an extremely charming bloke and that you’d win the heart of the town with just a smile.”

“He said that?” Louis wonders incredulously and feels his heart swell to double its normal size.

Barbara leans closer, as though she’s about to tell a secret. “He’s quite taken with you,” she says quietly, eyes impossibly kind and knowing.

Louis fish mouths for a second before ducking his head, cheeks flaming. “He’s very sweet,” he murmurs before abruptly looking up in a panic. “Don’t tell him I said that though.”

Barbara laughs and it reminds him of his nan. “My lips are sealed,” she promises. “But in case you might be wondering, Harry has a shift tomorrow.”

That makes Louis flush harder and he mumbles something unintelligible before hurrying off to one of the empty tables to pick at his scone and decidedly not think about Harry.

It doesn’t work out too well.

—

“Come _on_ , Louis,” Zayn groans, throwing a pillow that lands at Louis’ feet.

Louis shakes his head stubbornly and ducks when Zayn throws another pillow. “I can’t do it!” he protests, cowering under his best friend’s glare. “It’s stupid anyways.”

“Why would it be stupid?” Zayn shouts, looking close to tearing his hair out. “You like him! Just go see him! It’s not a big deal, Lou. Stop being such a giant pissbaby!”

“Take that back!” Louis gasps in horror and it’s far too dramatic, even for him. Zayn seems to agree.

“I’ll take it back when it stops being true,” he retorts before continuing in a threatening tone, “Go to the fucking bakery.”

“No,” Louis replies and this time the pillow actually hits him in the face. “Zayn, can you _stop_ that?”

Zayn raises an eyebrow and raises another pillow. “Don’t make me call Liam. I will, I’ll do it. Just watch me. How would you feel knowing you’ve pulled him out of what’s probably an extremely important meeting? My guess is pretty bad.”

Louis scowls at him.

Liam is the head of his own law firm or he will be when he inherits the firm from his father. Still, he’s extremely involved in it; as much as he can be from Holmes Chapel anyways. Louis knows how seriously he takes his job as does anyone who knows him well enough.

Which is why he probably would die from the guilt of bothering Liam.

“You’re a horrible person,” he informs Zayn.

“It keeps me awake at night, it really does,” is Zayn’s dry response before another pillow whacks Louis in the face. “Now go to the bakery and stop losing your shit, for fuck’s sake.”

Grumbling under his breath the entire way there, he finds himself at the bakery again within a single day. With the time he wasted arguing with Zayn though, it’s a lot later and probably closer to the closing time of the bakery.

When he pushes the door open this time, there’s no one at the counter.

He feels a little disappointed before he remembers the bell and realizes whoever’s running the register will probably be there soon. He has a brief moment where he wonders if Barbara lied to him yesterday but then he hears a familiar voice shout something from the kitchen area.

Harry comes out a second later and Louis is awed into silence.

Louis has never seen someone who is as beautiful as Harry is, the faint light overhead casting a warm glow over him. He’s wearing an apron that matches the color of his lips and it’s slightly askew, tied loosely around his waist. His hair is pulled into a messy bun, a single strand falling into his eyes that are filled with a tangible wildness. There’s also a streak of flour across one of his cheekbones that he’s failed to notice.

He’s messy. He’s incredibly messy. But he’s also so, so beautiful that he takes Louis’ breath away. Louis doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way about someone.

“Louis!” Harry shouts delightedly and then because he’s apparently unprofessional, he walks out from behind the counter and envelops Louis in a tight hug.

Not one to waste an opportunity, Louis breathes him in. He smells of cinnamon and brown sugar but beneath, if barely, there’s still that slightly bitter smell. It’s overshadowed but it’s there.

“Hi,” Louis murmurs when Harry pulls back and beams at him.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Harry admits, reaching up and tucking the stray curl from before behind his ear. “I forgot to ask you before; did you like the cookies?”

“They were fantastic,” Louis assures, feeling a smile creep onto his face. Harry’s happiness is almost infectious. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”

“I might have,” the younger man allows, eyes twinkling. “Not one to boast though.”

“Suppose I’ll have to do it for you,” Louis responds, just bordering on flirtatious.

Harry doesn’t seem to mind if the way he giggles is any indication. “Suppose so.”

They smile at each other for a moment or two before Harry is the one to break their gaze and look behind him, towards the door. “I’m supposed to close up tonight,” he explains when Louis tilts his head curiously.

“Right now?” Louis wonders, checking his wrist for a watch that isn’t there. Harry has one on though so Louis lifts his wrist instead to see it’s a quarter past nine.

When he looks back up, Harry is watching him with wide eyes and there’s a flush settling high on his cheekbones. Louis didn’t know that he could look any more beautiful than he already did but apparently, Harry likes to prove him wrong.

Because he’s feeling daring, he reaches up and wipes off the streak of flour on Harry’s cheekbone with his thumb and Harry’s eyes close, his eyelashes fluttering against the tip of Louis’ thumb.

Louis wishes he could freeze this moment because he’s incredibly awed by this messy, stunning, terribly enticing human being.

Suddenly the bell above the door rings and they both jump apart, Harry flushing even harder and Louis feeling strangely invigorated. Harry is like an adrenaline rush and Louis loves the high.

The person at the door is a small boy, grinning with his two front teeth missing. “Harry!” he shouts in glee, past Louis to cling tightly to one of Harry’s skinny jean sheathed legs.

“Evan!” Harry cheers and reaches down to hoist him onto his waist. “Isn’t it past your bedtime? Where’s your mum?”

The boy, Evan, giggles and buries his face into Harry’s neck. “She is very slow,” he informs, like it’s a secret before looking up with a bright grin. “Mummy said we could get a treat today because we are going to see grandmum!”

“Grandmum Patricia or Jess?” Harry asks, walking back behind the counter with Evan still against his hip.

Louis watches as he helps Evan pick out a doughnut, still speaking in low tones, and he wonders how Harry knows the names of this little boy’s _grandmothers_.

Soon Evan’s mum shows up, looking incredibly flustered and worried but Harry has a charming conversation with her coaxing her to forgive Evan while he hides behind Harry’s legs.

Louis busies himself with picking at a scone that he stole when Harry wasn’t paying attention.

He thinks back to a few nights ago, when Harry told him about wanting to have children and retracts his previous statement about Harry being too young. Harry obviously adores children and they seem to feel the same about him. Maybe he’s more ready than Louis thought.

Evan and his mother leave after a few minutes, with Harry promising to come around and visit them soon.

When the door shuts behind them, Harry turns to him with an accusatory finger. “I saw you take that.”

“Take what?” Louis asks though a mouthful of crumbs.

Harry raises an eyebrow and Louis grins, sliding over a tenner guiltily. “You were busy,” he says defensively, but there’s no real seriousness to his tone.

“Never too busy for you,” is Harry’s simple reply that nearly causes Louis to choke on his food. He somehow manages to save himself from the embarrassment at the last second.

Harry disappears into the kitchen to turn off the lights while Louis finishes the rest of his scone and when he comes back, he has on a coat and his apron is gone. “Did you walk here?” Harry asks, twirling a set of keys around his pointer finger.

“Yeah,” he confirms, licking a crumb off his thumb and he swears Harry’s eyes focus on his lips for a beat too long. He pretends to ignore it. “Figured my fancy sports car might be a little auspicious.”

“I could drive you home,” Harry suggests, almost timidly.

It takes a moment for those words to sink in and when they do, Louis wonders what the fuck he’s doing and wonders why he’s letting himself grow attached to this stranger with bright eyes and a smile that could break hearts. The thought passes quickly though as he watches Harry’s falling face the longer he doesn’t answer.

He’ll figure it out later.

“I’d love that,” he murmurs and it isn’t a lie.

Harry’s face lights up in reply and Louis knows he’ll do or say anything if it makes Harry look like that.

After a moment, he quips, “Lead the way,” gently nudging his hand against Harry’s arm.

“Aye, aye, Captain,” is Harry’s response, coupled with a mock salute before he does as asked and leads the way out of the bakery.

He waits as Harry locks the bakery up and then follows him across the road to where a rusted red pickup truck is.

Louis isn’t high maintenance, he really isn’t, but he can’t help blurting, “What the fuck?”

“What?” Harry asks defensively. “This is my baby, Karen.”

“Oh my God,” Louis breathes in disbelief and then he hesitantly reaches out and pokes the passenger door with one finger. “I’ve never actually seen one of these outside that Nicholas Sparks movie with Miley Cyrus.”

“It’s not going to break, Louis,” Harry complains, rolling his eyes and his breath comes out as a cold puff of air.

Louis gives him a long, dry look. “I’m not so sure about that. How old is this thing? Where did you even find it? I didn’t think they had these anywhere aside from the southern part of the United States.”

Harry reaches out and runs a hand over the hood of the car as though it’s something to worship. “Karen’s been in the family for years,” he says, almost dreamily.

“This thing looks like it’s a hazard to be on the road,” Louis tells him bluntly.

“Shut up,” Harry mumbles, looking like a petulant child. “Just get in the car and let me drive you home.”

Louis gives the car a final speculative look before sighing. “Alright, but if I die, you have to deal with my PR team. Gemma will literally curb stomp you.”

Harry, who was opening the passenger door for him, falters. “Did you say Gemma?”

“Yeah,” Louis confirms before shaking his head. “Terrifying, that woman is. She’s saved my arse more than once but if I’m being honest, my whole team has. I’m a messy celebrity.”

“My sister’s name is Gemma,” Harry mumbles after a moment, eyes roaming Louis’ face before he ducks his head, smiling shyly. “Don’t think she’s on your team though. Figured she would’ve told me by now.”

Louis laughs, reaching out to poke Harry’s forehead. “Well, let’s hope so. My Gemma is Gemma Blanks though and I'm assuming yours is Gemma Styles so I doubt it. But imagine if it had been..." he pauses before shrugging. "That would've been a crazy twist of fate." Then he gets into Harry’s truck and is consequently surprised when he finds that it’s sturdier than he expected it to be.

Harry nods as he holds the door on driver's side open, grinning. "Yeah, my sister is Gemma Styles but I kind of wish they were the same Gemma. Maybe we would've met earlier." Then Harry gets into the driver’s seat a second later and starts the engine which putters a few times but eventually turns on, with Louis watching incredulously.

“See?” Harry says smugly, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “Good as new.”

Clicking his seat belt into place, Louis raises an eyebrow. “Just get me home in one piece.”

After Harry finishes putting his own seatbelt on he looks back up, face serious as it’s ever been. “No promises.”

The horrified look Louis gives in return must be funny because Harry breaks into laughter, eyes squeezing shut and dimples sinking into his cheeks.

“Harry!” Louis shouts, scandalized.

“Sorry,” Harry apologizes when he catches his breath and it actually seems sincere. “You’re just too easy. Ed was right. You’re such a city boy.”

Louis scowls but it quickly fades when Harry suddenly leans forward, pressing his lips against Louis’ cheek. It only lasts for a few seconds and Harry’s lips are slightly chapped but also incredibly soft. “I promise you won’t die.”

Unable to say anything that he doesn’t trust to be gibberish, Louis nods mutely.

Harry smiles, looking pleased and Louis feels his own lips raise up accordingly but he turns to face the window to hide it.

When they’re halfway to Louis’ home, Harry breaks the silence with, “What did you mean when you said that you were a messy celebrity?”

Louis stiffens at the question but forces himself to relax as he remembers that this is Harry, not a journalist trying to rip his secrets out of him.

Still, Louis’ default for these things has always been humor. This is what they taught him in media training and it’s somehow become a part of who he is now.

“Well what kind of arse randomly decides to take a two month break?” he jokes, tapping his fingers against the window. Louis doesn’t turn to look at him entirely, keeping his eyes trained on the window. Holmes Chapel is strange. Usually when Louis looks out the windows of a car, he sees high rising buildings. Here he sees land and land as far as the eye can see.

“You’re not an arse,” Harry protests and Louis can see there’s a frown on his face from the corner of his eye. “I’m sure you had your reasons.”

Louis laughs bitterly but his voice is soft when he says, “I really, really didn’t,” because he can’t stand to be anything but gentle with this lovely boy next to him. “Also, keep your eyes on the road,” he adds when he sees Harry casting him a concerned glance.

Harry furrows his eyebrows but keep his eyes in front of him like Louis asked. “Well you don’t always need a reason. Sometimes people just need a break from it all. You should always be your first priority. If you think you need something, you probably do. You know your needs better than anything else.

Louis blinks. “You believe that?”

“I do,” Harry confirms.

“You’re strange,” Louis says quietly and Harry’s mouth quirks up at the side, probably remembering their conversation at the bonfire like he is.

Then Louis realizes they’re parked in the driveway of his home and that he’s probably wasting Harry’s time. He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to find Harry already watching him. “Thanks for the ride,” he mumbles, heart racing. He can still feel the phantom ghost of Harry’s lips against his cheek.

“And you thought Karen would kill you,” Harry teases, eyes dancing in the pale moonlight washing through the window.

“No,” Louis disagrees quietly, biting his lip. “I thought you would.” _I still do_.

Harry blinks, clearly not expecting that and Louis offers him a small smile before getting out of the truck.

He shuts the door behind him gently but then hesitates before he turns back around. He taps lightly on the window and watches Harry peer at him in confusion. Louis taps insistently again and Harry leans over the seat, apparently manually winding the window down.

Louis gives Harry a pointed look but refrains from making a comment about what a mess the truck is. “I’ll text you,” he promises before ducking forward and pressing a quick kiss to Harry’s cheek.

In front of him, Harry’s mouth snaps shut making Louis smirk as he turns back around and walks to the door of his home.

When’s he’s inside the cottage and out of Harry’s sight, he slumps against the wall and slides down to the floor.

“What am I doing?” he mutters to himself, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.

This is stupid. This is more than stupid; this is the dumbest thing he’s done in a long time and considering he just took an impromptu two months break, that’s saying a lot.

His management team would probably kill him if they knew. His public relations team will _definitely_ kill him if they find out about this. He can see the looks on Lexi and Angel’s faces already.

It’s not that his team—the people he relies on most after his friends and family—wouldn’t let him have a boyfriend because he knows that they would  after his conversation with Irving. Having a relationship this reckless without informing someone first; that’s what’s going to get him murdered by his team.

And it’s even as though this thing with Harry is anything yet. Harry’s not his boyfriend. They haven’t gone out on any dates. They haven’t even _kissed_.

Maybe Louis is just blowing this out of proportion and nothing means anything. Harry could just be a naturally affectionate person. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

But the problem is… it means something to Louis. He hasn’t genuinely liked someone since he was nineteen and in love with his director’s son, a boy he never had a chance with named Colin.

Ever since he became someone that has his face splayed on magazines, it’s been too hard to meet someone that he can really connect to.

What’s even harder is being able to spend time with the people he does meet for two reasons. One being that he’s extremely busy and rarely stays in the same place for too long. The second being that considering he’s not particularly interested in the gender that the media believes him to be, having a relationship is a lot more difficult than it should be.

There’s never been a reason for him to come out but Louis thinks that if he had a steady relationship, he wouldn’t be able to hide it. It wouldn’t be fair to the person he’s dating and it would be a pain in the arse for his team to deal with. They had it bad enough when Louis went through his phase of bringing a new bloke home every night.

After a lecture from Christy and Kara, two of the women on his public relations team, he decided he probably was being too excessive and needed to calm down a bit.

A bit turned into him not having been with anyone for two years. Now since he rarely ever goes out to get papped with anyone aside from his co-stars during promo season, he doesn’t even have to keep Eleanor around anymore.

Their relationship was never confirmed and the topic was blacklisted from all his interviews after his team change. He (or rather his team) never even had to issue a statement regarding their ‘break up’. Instead, she just started showing up less and less as they faded her out and now he hasn’t seen her in over a year.

Once when he was feeling really miserable and broody over his existence, he called his public relations team over for drinks and spent the rest of the night whining about how tired he was of all the lies.

The only thing he really remembers from that night is Jordan patting him on the back and saying, “It all comes out in the wash.”

He’s very thankful that his public relations team consists solely of women in their young twenties that will happily discuss how beautiful David Beckham is with him. He’s also very thankful that they’ve offered him nothing but endless support in the past five years.

That’s probably why he ends up calling their main phone line right before he goes to bed that night. It’s pretty late and he doubts they’ll be at the office, much less pick up but suddenly there’s a pleasant and familiar voice on the other end. “This is Lexi speaking, how may I help you?”

“It’s Louis,” he replies, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

There’s a beat of silence before Lexi starts shouting down on the line, “Oh my God, Louis? Guys, Louis is on the line!” and suddenly seven other people are on the line with the two of them.

“Louis, babe, how are you?” asks Jordan but it’s overshadowed by Gemma cursing at him in what may or may not be three different languages.

It takes a while for all of commotion to settle down but once it does, Shyla is the one to ask, “No, so really, how are you? Holding up well?”

“I’m alright,” Louis replies before sighing. “How much of a mess have I made?”

“Nothing we can’t handle,” Christy assures. “We’re the best Tomlinson, and don’t you dare forget it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies.

The girls spend twenty minutes catching him up on what’s happening in the media and telling him that they miss him and also insulting him to varying degrees. He really loves his public relations team. They remind him of his sisters in a way and he feels a pang in his chest at thought. He misses his family.

It takes a lot of work to build up the courage to say it but when there’s a brief silence, he says, “So I’ve met someone,” extremely quietly, almost hoping they won’t hear.

Of course they do.

“You met a boy and you waited half an hour to tell us?” Kara demands to know.

“I’m honestly going to kick your sorry arse back to Doncaster, Louis,” Gemma threatens but she sounds as excited as the other whispering voices he can just barely hear.

Louis hums noncommittally. “Will it be a problem for you? Should I stop seeing him? It’s nothing serious or anything yet but…”

“Are you joking?” Angel asks incredulously. “We’ve been waiting for this day _forever_.”

“For me to ruin my own career, you mean?” he asks, feeling slightly bitter.

“Shut up, nothing could ruin your career,” Ezgi orders, sounding exasperated. “Especially not a boyfriend. Tons of celebrities have secret relationships, you’ll be fine.”

There’s a silence then before Christy hedges, “Unless you don’t want it to be a secret…”

When Louis is quiet, they all start shouting at him all at once before one of them clears their throat loudly and it’s Jordan that speaks. “If you want to come out, you’re going to have to tell us in advance. We’ll have to start planting the idea in the heads of your fans and the public. It’s called seeding.”

“It’ll be a difficult process but we’ll work through it together, Louis,” adds Shyla comfortingly.

“I don’t really know what I want,” Louis finally admits, hanging his head even though he knows they can’t see him.

“That’s fine,” Lexi assures. “We’ll start figuring out a plan if you decide you want to. In the meantime, you’ll have to tell us about this boy so we can make sure nothing leaks ahead of time.”

“We could plan a leak though, if that’s the route you want to take,” Kara adds, sounding strangely excited.

It’s explained a second later when Angel gushes, “I’ve always wanted to plan a coming out,” and everyone else says, “Me too!”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Louis groans, falling back against his bed. “Are you sure this isn’t a problem for you guys?”

“Louis, you could literally kill someone and we would have your back and spin it into something good,” Christy reminds.

“Don’t kill anyone though,” Gemma threatens but then she adds, “We’ll help you through this, Lou. Just don’t disappear off the face of the planet next time.”

Louis almost laughs but settles for a small smile. “I won’t. Thank you guys.”

He hangs up soon after that and for the first time since he decided to take his break, he falls asleep with a smile on his face.

—

(10:54)

_Hello_

(11:07)

**Louis?**

(11:02)

_The one and only !!_

(11:04)

**Random fact but my journal cover says only and only.**

(11:05)

_That is pretty random but thanks for letting me know :) how is your day going ?_

(11:08)

**Good thank you, how is yours?**

(11:09)

_I’ve only just now woken up … oops !_

(11:11)

**Luckyyy.. Are you still in bed then?**

(11:12)

_Getting a bit ahead of ourselves there aren’t we . haha_

(11:13)

**That’s not what I meant! I was just wondering..**

(11:14)

_Whatever you say !_

(11:18)

**Louiiiiisssss. Don’t be mean, it’s too early in the morning.**

(11:19)

_It’s almost noon harold .._

(11:21)

**Yeah, says you. You only just got out of bed.**

(11:22)

_I see you get feisty !! Don’t get worked up love :)_

(11:24)

**Heyyyyyyyyyy.. Did you text me just to bully me?**

(11:25)

_No actually . wanted to ask you smth ?_

(11:30)

**Ask away.**

(11:31)

_Right so .. Do you want to maybe hang out today .. ? Ha_

(11:34)

**Noooooooo**

(11:35)

**Wait. Not ‘noooooo’ I don’t want to hang out with you. ‘Nooooo’ I can’t because I am at the library studying for an exam.**

(11:35)

**I really wish I could.**

(11:38)

_The library in town ?_

(11:39)

**Yes. Not that many libraries to choose from. Sorry again. I’ll make it up to you?**

(11:50)

**Louis?**

(11:57)

**Am I crazy or are you standing at front desk talking to Zayn?**

(12:02)

_Turn around !!_

—

“No food or drinks allowed,” Zayn says without looking up, eyes trained on what looks to be a comic book in his lap. His feet are propped up against the front desk and Louis recognizes his shoes because they’re shoes that Louis bought him as a present not that long ago.

Louis winces, having absolutely forgotten that Zayn works at the library as a part time job.

He stares down at the two coffees in his hands and wonders if he should just spare himself the humiliation and throw them out or if he should pull the best friend card and force Zayn into letting him take them inside.

It turns out he doesn’t have a choice because Zayn glances up then, his expression bored until his eyes land on Louis and they widen comically.

“What are you doing here?” Zayn wonders, sitting up immediately and setting his feet down solidly on the ground. He raises an eyebrow and gestures towards one of the coffees in Louis’ hand, “Is that for me?”

Louis laughs nervously and shakes his head. “Erm, no, it’s not,” he says slowly as if that’ll make Zayn drop the subject.

Zayn stares at him blankly for at least half a minute before his eyes light up with understanding and he snorts, leaning back in his seat. “Tell Harry I said hi.”

After debating on what to say, Louis settles on sighing and muttering, “Will do,” before offering his best friend a charming smile. “Would you be a dear and tell me where he is?”

He expects Zayn’s response which is to snort again but because he is actually Louis’ best friend, he hitches a thumb towards the children’s section which Louis honestly should’ve expected.

“I would blow you a kiss but my hands are occupied,” he tells Zayn but purses his lips in a kissing motion anyways. Zayn flips him the bird and Louis goes on his merry way. It’s a beautiful friendship that they’ve had for over a decade.

He finds Harry on his phone, eyebrows furrowed and he sets down one of the coffees on the floor so he can tap out a quick text telling Harry to turn around.

Harry flips around, holding a hand to his chest in surprise. Louis giggles at him. “You’re—you’re here,” he says in blatant disbelief.

“I am,” Louis agrees before leaning down and picking up the coffee cup he set down. “And I brought coffee.”

Harry blinks a few times before he reaches out and takes both coffees from Louis’ hands and Louis isn’t sure what he’s doing until suddenly he has an armful of Harry.

“Thank you,” Harry mumbles against the side of Louis’ head, squeezing his arms around his neck and Louis smiles, squeezing back.

—

It becomes a _thing_ somehow. Louis will just show up at the library a few days a week with two coffees and Harry will be there awaiting him with a smile.

Louis ends up going through his email and finding scripts he didn’t plan on looking at for a few months and printing them out so he has something to do when sitting beside Harry.

It’s nice. It doesn’t feel like he’s pressuring himself. It reminds him of his life before becoming a celebrity, when he used to run lines with anyone willing to listen.

He likes that he can revert to that self when he’s with Harry. Or maybe he’s becoming someone entirely new; he’s not quite sure how it’s working but it is and that’s what matters.

—

“Remember when I said I’d make it up to you when you asked me to hang out?” Harry asks one day as Louis is going over a script about two people in a band falling in love and having to hide it from the world.

Louis looks up, tapping a pencil against the side of his mouth. “Yeah, but we hung out anyways so it’s fine,” he reminds.

“No, I know but I just thought I should make it up to you anyways,” Harry tries and Louis waves a hand noncommittally.

“It’s fine,” he assures before making a face at the page in front of him. “I know the script is already written and I can’t change a thing but I want to rip it all to shreds and rewrite it.”

He thinks Harry’s making a face at him but he’s still focused on the page in front of him so he doesn’t bother looking up and seeing it firsthand. As _if_ two people could be at the same concert, bump into each other on the way to the bathroom and then be put into the same band on a television show. Things like that just don’t happen. It’s too unrealistic to have a love that fated.

“Louis, will you listen to me?” Harry complains, snapping his fingers in front of Louis’ face.

“What is it?” Louis asks, finally looking up to see Harry’s giving him an exasperated look.

“I’m trying to ask you out on a date, if you’d pay attention for five seconds,” he says, heaving a sigh before his eyes widen and he shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

Louis is too busy gaping at him to formulate a reply.

Harry groans, shoving his face in his hands and mumbling, “I had this all planned out, I really did. I was going to woo you.”

“Woo me,” Louis repeats a little incredulously and maybe breathlessly.

“Well this is just going swimmingly,” Harry mutters before sighing and looking up, taking one of Louis’ hands in his. “Would you go on a date with me?”

“I—erm,” Louis splutters, unsure how to make his brain work. Harry is asking him out on a _date_. Is Louis somehow hallucinating? “Yes?” comes out of his mouth without permission.

He doesn’t even try taking it back because Harry lights up like Louis has just given him the best news in the world and he squeezes Louis’ hand before dropping it and going back to studying.

Louis’ life isn’t remotely real.

—

The date is fun. It’s really fun.

It starts with Harry picking him up in his nightmare of a truck and driving them to an ice cream shop that his mum’s friend’s sister’s husband’s brother owns or something of that sort.

Louis gets mint chocolate chip and Harry gets strawberry but it’ll turn out that Harry eats more of Louis’ ice cream than he does of his own.

It’s fine and he even tells Harry so when the man behind the counter snorts at them. “You know what the difference is? I don’t mind sharing.”

“Sharing is caring,” Harry replies back whimsically, more of a sing-song than anything else and Louis laughs. “Charity starts at home.”

“Think your definition of charity needs a bit of editing there, mate,” he teases before shoving a spoonful of ice cream into Harry’s mouth so he can’t say anything back.

The second part of the date is Harry parking his truck at the bakery and then walking Louis home. It usually takes about twenty minutes for him to walk home but Harry gets them lost (on purpose by Louis’ guess) and they spend hours walking around, just talking.

Louis tells Harry about his life as a celebrity, highlighting the good parts and leaving out the bad parts and Harry tells him about his life in Holmes Chapel.

Sometimes they don’t talk at all and instead their hands brush against each other before Harry finally reaches out and intertwines their fingers.

The last time Louis went on an actual date was half a decade ago and this date still blows every other date right out of the park. Maybe it’s because he’s never connected as well without someone as does with Harry or maybe it’s just part of Harry’s boyish charm and dimpled smile.

Louis doesn’t really know. He also doesn’t really care.

By the time they find their way to Louis’ home, it’s late into the evening and the sun is setting somewhere on the horizon.

They stop on the porch and Louis feels something like disappointment. He wishes he could spend the entire night walking around aimlessly with Harry, talking about their past, their present and their future. That’s not as impossible as it once seemed.

Maybe another day.

“Well, this is it, I suppose,” he says, lip quirking up at the same with a bitter smile. “That was really nice, Harry.”

Before he can say anything more, Harry leans closer, his lips just a mere centimeter away from Louis’. Instead of thinking about it, Louis steps onto his toes and pulls him into a bruising kiss, fingers finding their way into Harry’s long curls.

Louis finally figures out what the bitter smell is when he tastes it on Harry’s tongue. It’s lime.

He presses closer with the intent to lick the taste out of Harry’s mouth.

Harry’s hair is soft between his fingers and Louis tugs gently on the curls at the base of his neck, causing Harry to let out a low whine from the back of his throat.

Louis huffs a laugh against his lips before pulling back, falling to the flats of his feet. “You smell like lime, Harold,” he says because he can.

In response Harry blinks, looking slightly out of sorts with mussed hair and lips the color of cherry wine. “Uh… thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” Louis replies and smiles brightly, feeling his eyes crinkle at the corners. “I don’t usually kiss on the first date.”

“What made you change your mind?” Harry wonders, licking his lips while looking down through hooded eyes and Louis feels the urge to kiss him again.

“You,” Louis answers honestly, reaching up to press a chaste kiss to Harry’s slack lips before he can think second guess himself.

He knows his time is up when the door to his cottage opens and Zayn is standing there with raised eyebrows, a sheepish Liam behind him. “Do you have any idea what time it is, young man?”

“Time for you to fuck off probably,” Louis mutters under his breath although he takes a step away from Harry all the same.

“Louis,” Zayn warns but his eyes are lit up with mischief and over his shoulder, Liam is offering him an apologetic look.

“Mum,” Louis retorts in the same tone only for Zayn to glare harshly at him.

Harry giggles, ducking his head and Louis swears that he’s never been as enamored with a person as he is right then.

Determined to keep Harry laughing, Louis turns and pouts at his best friends. “Dad, go snug mum or something,” he says, addressing Liam who’s barely stifling his amusement. “Bed mum if you must.”

Zayn makes an affronted noise, holding his hand to his chest. “Listen here, you uncultured twat. Calling a married gay man ‘mum’ is heteronormative and confining them to gender roles and you—”

Liam rolls his eyes good-naturedly, muttering, “Sorry, ice cream brings out the social justice side of him,” before pulling Zayn back inside the cottage and shutting the door.

“Bed mum?” Harry repeats, voice high with delight. “Although he’s right, y’know.”

Louis beams anyways. “Well you see, young Harold, in the early fifteenth century, it was not particularly advisable to court your beau if you had not properly wed and bed them and considering Liam and Zayn are already wed, it simply seemed fitting for them to—”

“Shut up and kiss me, you fool,” is Harry’s fond response and Louis is more than happy to oblige.

They kiss until they run out of breath and then laugh into each other’s mouths when they do.

“I should go,” Harry mumbles, forehead resting against Louis’.

“Should you?” he mutters back, eyes fluttering shut.

“Well unless you want to invite me in while your mum and dad are—” Harry starts jokingly.

Louis swats his arm halfheartedly. “I don’t bed anyone on the first date either. What kind of bloke do you take me for?”

That’s a lie. Louis has slept with boys whose names he didn’t know just because he could. His therapist Scott told him it was because he wanted to make up for the years of pain in his childhood. Louis told Scott to fuck himself.

Those weren’t the happiest of days.

Louis is just glad his public relations team is as good as it is and that the media never got a whiff of what was essentially the lowest point of his life.

“Maybe I’ll get lucky on the second date,” Harry teases, reminding Louis of where he is. It’s 2015. He’s in Holmes Chapel. He’s got a steady, solid, lovely human being standing in front of him, hinting at wanting a second date. Happy days.

“Yeah, maybe,” Louis allows, brushing his lips against Harry’s just once more. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

“We’ll just have to see,” Harry repeats, like a promise.

—

For their second date, Harry doesn’t tell him what they’re doing. Instead, Harry blindfolds him before he can even walk out of his cottage (“Kinky,” Louis mutters, running his hand over the silk of what Harry claims to be a headscarf. He can’t see Harry but he hopes the younger man is blushing) and then walks him to his truck.

They drive for maybe fifteen minutes before Harry pulls his truck over and the low music that was playing on the radio turns off.

“We’re here,” Harry announces proudly and Louis can hear the grin in his voice.

“What a lovely view,” Louis quips dryly, still blindfolded.

Harry sighs exasperatedly beside him but then there are quick, nimble fingers at the back of his head, untying the cloth.

It was already late when Harry picked him up, the sun having set just a few minutes prior. Now when Louis pulls the blindfold away from his eyes, the night is completely dark.

He looks around, trying to figure out what they’re doing but there’s nothing around them for miles. They’re in a clearing beside the woods and Harry is smiling like they’re at the top of the world.

“Are you going to kill me or something?” Louis wonders and he’s only half-joking.

The horrified look Harry gives him return is confirmation that Louis will not be dying tonight and that’s always reassuring. “On our _date_?”

Louis titters. “I suppose you could do it after our date.”

Harry gapes at him before finally he shakes his head, muttering, “Ridiculous,” under his breath but when he looks back up, he’s smiling again. “Come on.”

“Where?” Louis wonders but follows Harry’s lead and climbs out of the truck. It’s only then that he notices how nicely decorated the back of the truck is and when he walks around so he can see the back, there’s piles of blankets and pillows along with all kinds of various junk food and bottles of beer.

He turns to look at Harry who’s watching him with a hopeful expression. “What’s this?” he asks and his voice is as soft as rose petals.

Harry shrugs almost sheepishly and gestures towards the sky. “I thought maybe we could watch the stars? I used to do it a lot when I was a little kid and I don’t know if you get to see them a lot in the city so I just thought you might like it. I don’t know. We can leave if you want.”

“Are you kidding?” Louis protests and climbs into the back of the truck, settling into the blankets before offering Harry a reassuring smile. “This is sick!”

Harry giggles nervously. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Louis replies before patting the spot next to him. “Let’s watch some stars, Harold.”

And so they do.

They watch the stars and Harry points at the brightest one and mumbles that it’s not as bright as Louis is. All the while Louis tries not to break his face from smiling too big.

As nice as watching the stars is, it’s nicer to watch Harry. Maybe Louis is a little tipsy or maybe Harry is the most captivating human being he’s ever met.

Harry is beautiful, the pale moonlight washing over him in ways that highlight the shadows on his face. When he speaks, he’s focused solely on whatever he’s talking about, eyes lit up with interest. He points out his favorite star constellations and then all of a sudden he sits up, taking his jumper off.

Louis is confused what he’s doing until Harry rolls his sleeve up and points at the star tattoo on the inside of his left arm.

“You can touch,” Harry murmurs, apparently having realized how badly Louis wants to run his fingers along the stark black lines that make up the star.

He presses a thumb to the center of the black star and presses down hard. Harry inhales sharply, making Louis look up interestedly. “Something wrong?” he asks, pressing down harder, enough to leave a bruise.

Harry shakes his head mutely but his eyes look infinitely darker and Louis can’t help it when he leans closer and licks into Harry’s mouth.

He pushes Harry against the back window of his truck and then in one quick movement, he straddles him. Beneath him, Harry’s eyes have widened significantly but his hands come up to hold Louis’ hips.

“Just tell me if I’m going too fast,” he mumbles before tugging Harry forward into another searing kiss that causes sparks to go down his spine.

He starts pressing open mouthed kisses along the smooth column of his neck and Harry’s head falls back against the truck with a quiet thud.

Louis smirks against his skin before sucking a bruise into the base of his neck, biting down sharply and in response Harry’s fingers tighten on his waist.

Experimentally, he rolls his hips against Harry’s and he’s pleased to find that Harry’s hard where he’s pressed against Louis’ arse. He rolls his hips again if only to hear Harry let out a breathy gasp.

He pulls away from where he’s biting Harry’s collarbone to kiss him again, messier than before but it still causes a sharp heat to pool in his stomach.

When they pull apart, Harry’s lips are several shades darker and his cheeks are flushed. Louis grins and grinds down against Harry again, setting his hands on the younger man’s shoulders. “What do you want?”

“I—uh,” Harry starts but he can’t seem to form a coherent sentence. Louis stops swiveling his hips to give Harry an expectant look. It seems to clear Harry’s head a little because he bites his lips and lowers his eyes. “Wanna stop the world and get off with you.”

Louis laughs before he can help it and buries his face against Harry’s chest. “Did you just quote Arctic Monkeys at me?”

“Maybe,” Harry mumbles before he bucks his hips up, cock pressing against Louis and punching a quiet gasp out of him. “Wanna blow you.”

“Jesus,” Louis mutters and he knows his eyes are dark with how much he wants that. “Yeah, yeah, please.”

Then he remembers that it’s about negative one billion degrees outside and he’ll probably freeze his arse off before Harry can do anything other than pull his jeans down.

“Wait,” he says when Harry makes a pleased noise and his hands move to unzip Louis’ jeans. “It’s too cold outside, babe,” he reminds.

Harry pouts petulantly. “In the car?” he suggests hopefully.

Louis almost considers it but then he shakes his head wistfully. “Too dangerous, love.”

That makes Harry fully frown before his eyes light up and he starts scrambling to sit up straight, jostling Louis who falls forward onto his chest in surprise. “I live five minutes from here,” he says excitedly when Louis looks at him in bemusement.

“Oh,” Louis breathes before his own eyes brighten in response. “Then what are we waiting for?”

Harry laughs loudly, head thrown back and Louis marvels at the bruise blooming on his neck. _I did that_ , he thinks.

They probably break five speeding laws on their way to Harry’s flat but Louis has a sneaking suspicion that even if the police did stop them, Harry would be able to charm his way out of it. The only thing worrying Louis is that the truck is going to breakdown on their way there.

As soon as they make it through Harry’s apartment door, Louis is pinned to the wall in a surprising turn of events and Harry is sucking a bruise into Louis’ collarbones.

Louis has never been the type to laugh in the middle of getting laid but he can’t help the giggle that escapes his lips, even though it turns into a breathy gasp.

When Harry drops to his knees then, eyes dark with focus and fingers tugging on Louis’ belt, it takes all of Louis’ strength to catch his hands and stop him, shaking his head. “Babe, come on, your bedroom’s right there,” he reminds. “I don’t you want you to get rug burn.”

Harry looks up at him with glittering eyes and flushed cheeks. “I… I like it when it hurts,” he mumbles almost shyly and Louis’ knees buckle at the words.

“You—alright,” Louis says, feeling out of breath.

Harry smiles pleasantly before he resumes unbuckling Louis’ belt and sliding his jeans down his legs. The look on his face is an expression Louis almost wants to describe as hungry.

Then Harry leans forward and starts to suck lovebites into Louis’ thigh, against his tattoo that says _broke my bones playing games with you_. Louis digs his hands into Harry’s hair, needing something to anchor him because the twisting in his stomach is making him feel almost dizzy with want.

“You’ve got such nice thighs,” Harry mumbles appreciatively. “Think they’d be nicer wrapped around my head.”

Louis’ breath stutters and he can feel Harry’s smile against his skin, clearly knowing the effect he’s having on Louis. The cheeky _bastard_.

“You’re awful,” he admonishes but quickly loses his train of thought when Harry reaches up and pulls down his briefs, wrapping a loose fist around his cock.

Louis’ hips lift off the wall and he tightens his fingers where they’re woven into Harry’s hair which makes the younger man whine quietly.

Harry leans forward then and there’s a barely hidden arousal there as he wraps his lips around the head of Louis’ cock, his hands dropping behind his back.

It’s a submissive position and Louis decides after he gets Harry off too, they’ll discuss their kinks and limits but for now all he can focus on is the warm heat of Harry’s mouth and his enthusiasm.

He seems to be _good_ at it too, not taking a break as he sinks several inches down Louis’ cock, tongue tracing a vein on the underside and without thinking, Louis drops one of his hands from where it’s buried in Harry’s hair to press against cheek where he can feel the faint outline of his own cock.

Harry looks up at him then, lips stretched raw around his cock, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed a pretty pink color that causes a sharp twist in Louis’ stomach. He pulls off then but his tongue darts out to lick precome from the head of Louis’ cock and he hums, pleased apparently.

Louis doesn’t know how he got so lucky.

Without wasting time, Harry goes back down on Louis, taking him even deeper and he starts to hum again, causing Louis to buck his hips without meaning to. He opens his mouth to apologize but Harry is looking up at him with this _look_ that makes him think that maybe he should do it again.

Carefully, he thrusts shallowly into Harry’s mouth and it causes the younger man to flutter his eyes shut and sink down further down Louis’ cock until his nose is brushing against Louis’ hips.

“Want me to fuck your mouth, Haz?” Louis asks, voice hoarse and Harry blinks his eyes open, eyelashes wet with tears.

Louis hesitates a moment but when Harry makes no move to pull off, he thrusts shallowly into Harry’s mouth again and presses his thumb deeper into Harry’s cheek, where the dimple would be.

Harry seems to lean into his touch and he moans around Louis’ cock causing him to let out a quiet groan of his own, slamming his head against the back of the wall as he snaps his hips up.

He barely feels the faint ache at the back of his head though when he looks back down at Harry who look completely wrecked as Louis thrusts into his mouth. Louis brushes his fingers along Harry’s cheekbone lightly before pressing the tip of his thumb against Harry’s mouth where he can feel his cock stretching the younger man’s lips.

Harry pulls off momentarily, taking a moment to breathe and there’s precome and spit running down his chin, tear tracks down his face. He’s the perfect image of fucked out and Louis thinks he could come from just looking at this messy, debauched boy.

It seems that it’s not up to him though because as soon as Harry can, he’s taking the head of Louis’ cock in his mouth again and sucking, lips wrapped around his cock as tight as a vice, eyes shut. Not even seconds later, Louis is coming and nearly crumpling against the wall.

Harry swallows completely and pulls off with a dazed grin, eyes still glassy and Louis pulls him up by the shirt, tugging him into a searing kiss. He can taste himself on Harry’s tongue and it makes him want to pull Harry closer, to never let him go.

He does eventually because he needs to breathe and also because he has something he has to do.

“Let me return the favor,” Louis murmurs and everything after that is a blur.

—

Louis wakes up with a dry mouth and a pounding in his temple. He blinks his eyes a few times and groans at the light filtering in before his eyes fly open suddenly. The light in his bedroom comes from the right, not the left.

He sits up so quickly that it makes him dizzy. He doesn’t recognize the room but then his eyes catch on a patterned scarf thrown haplessly over a chair. Suddenly the entire night flashes by his eyes and despite the headache he’s quickly forming, he finds himself smiling.

The right side of the bed is still warm so he figures Harry couldn’t have strayed far. There’s also a glass of water on the bed as well as two paracetamol tablets which Louis downs gratefully before climbing out of Harry’s bed.

He sees a pair of joggers on the floor that decidedly aren’t his but he slips them on anyways. They hang loose on his hips and pool at his ankles but he doesn’t really care. As an afterthought he nicks a jumper he sees as well, pushing the sleeves up to his elbow before exiting Harry’s room.

This is the first time he’s seen Harry and Niall’s flat in the daylight and he finds that it’s exactly what he imagined two uni students would have a flat like.

“Harry?” he calls and hears an affirmative shout to his left. He follows the sound of Harry’s voice until he finds the kitchen and Harry in a flamingo patterned apron, humming along to a song on the radio.

Louis sniffs at the air a little before furrowing his eyebrows. He opens his mouth to ask just as Harry sets two plates down on the small table in the kitchen. “Brekkie de la Styles.”

Letting out an incredulous laugh, Louis shakes his head. “I would kiss you but I haven’t brushed my teeth,” he informs regretfully.

Harry grins and gestures to the counter when an unopened pack of toothbrushes sits and Louis feels another laugh bubble up in his throat. “You ridiculous, ridiculous boy,” he mumbles, walking over and wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist. “Thank you.”

He presses a kiss against Harry’s bare shoulder and it’s—it’s strange for him, far too soft and gentle but all the same, he decides that this is the best morning he’s had in a long time. He could get used to having mornings like this every day.

They have breakfast and tea (which Louis makes because Harry is type to ruin it with sugar). It’s all incredibly domestic and makes Louis feel warm with pleasure.

Not soon after, Louis has to apologize and leave because he remembers he promised Liam that he would go into the city with him. It’s alright because Harry has a lecture to attend to anyways.

Harry kisses him goodbye at the door and Louis leaves with a heart heavy with fondness and a stomach filled with butterflies.

—

“So what’s the deal?”

“Hm?” Louis asks, looking away with from the window to glance imploringly at Liam.

Liam taps his fingers against the steering wheel, a nervous habit that he picked up from Zayn. “With Harry?” he intones after a moment.

Louis furrows his eyebrows. “What about Harry?”

“What are you doing with him?” Liam asks and then he winces, fingers stilling on the wheel. “Is this like—a thing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Louis retorts but his mind is racing. These are the thoughts he’s been trying to avoid for days.

Liam sighs in exasperation but he doesn’t say anything else, choosing to stare forward and hum along to the radio where a catchy song is playing.

It’s only when they arrive at their destination that a hand wraps around Louis’ wrist, stopping him from unbuckling his seat belt. “Are you dating? Is he your boyfriend?” and if Louis isn’t mistaken, he sounds almost hopeful.

Swallowing back his dread, Louis shakes his head and his sunglasses almost fall off. Having a disguise is really inconvenient at times. “It’s casual,” he mutters.

Liam’s look is one of skepticism.

“It’s casual,” Louis repeats more forcefully, willing his best friend to understand.

“You’re wearing his clothes and you just spent the night with him on your second date,” Liam deadpans.

“Well—well you got married to Zayn when you were eighteen so I don’t think you’re in any position to be judging me!” Louis protests shrilly.

“This isn’t the same thing!” Liam protests, voice raised to match Louis’ tone.

There are people staring at them now, even though they’re still inside the car. They shouldn’t have left the window down. Louis fixes his disguise hastily before fixing Liam with a glare.

“We are not discussing this,” he states firmly. “Now let’s go Payno, you’re going to be late for your meeting.”

—

The sound of the marimba ringtone blaring from his phone wakes Louis up at an ungodly hour. It makes him want to smother himself in his pillows so he does just that, rolling over and pulling his blanket over his head.

He manages to fall back asleep for an hour before his phone starts to blast obnoxiously again. With a groan, his hand reaches out until his fingers close around his phone and without looking at the screen, he slides his thumb to answer the call.

“Hello?” he croaks, flopping onto his side and blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“Rise and shine, love. You’ve got a job to do,” a cheerful voice says on the other end of the line. It’s distinctly female. They sound smug. They also sound familiar. Louis isn’t nearly awake enough for this.

“Whass’it?” he slurs groggily, settling more comfortably into his pillows and rubbing his eyes with his free hand.

“We’ve mailed you a shirt. Wear it. A pap will be there in two hours. Go for a walk. Take a friend if you want, or don’t—that part doesn’t really matter. Calls us afterwards. Got it?”

Louis’ eyes snap wide pen at the word pap and he sits up abruptly, tangled in his blankets. “What?”

Ezgi sighs on the other end. “Wear the shirt. Go for a walk. Get papped. Call me. Is that simple enough?”

“Why am I getting papped?” Louis wonders incredulously, somehow managing to climb out of his bed without bringing his blankets down with him. He heads towards the front door of his cottage and when he gets there, he opens it and looks at his doorstep.

As Ezgi said, there’s a package waiting for him at his feet, addressed to his alias _Nicholas Bluebell_. He hums in confusion but picks it up, shutting the door behind him.

“For seeding, remember?” Ezgi reminds and Louis blinks suddenly, feeling the box slip from his hands in surprise. He quickly gets a grip before it can fall.

“We’re doing that?” he asks, voice pitched higher than usual as he sets the box down on his kitchen counter.

There’s a brief silence on the other end. “Do you not want to?” Ezgi finally asks.

“Well, I mean—” Louis starts and then falters, coming up empty handed. “Can I call you back? Or text?”

“Of course, Louis,” Ezgi replies softly and it’s the softest she’s ever been with him. That’s concerning. “Just within the hour, okay? So I can tell the pap.”

Louis mumbles an affirmative before hanging up, staring down the package. He gives into curiosity and grabs a table knife to cut the box open. Inside he finds a t-shirt and when he unfolds it, there’s an Apple logo that’s rainbow colored.

At the bottom of the box is an article about Apple CEO Tim Cook coming out and it makes Louis’ throat close up as he skims over it.

Him wearing this shirt—it’s not a definitive thing. If he wears it, it doesn’t mean he’s coming out. It’ll cause mass speculation but he trusts his PR team to tame the masses if he needs them to. The shirt doesn’t _have_ to mean anything unless Louis wants it to.

Does he want it to?

Even the question is terrifying and he’s never spent too long thinking about his sexuality for more than one reason. Coming out has always been the thing he’s feared most.

He wasn’t always this scared. He remembers being seventeen and being nervous to tell anyone but also so, so relieved that he finally figured out why he’d always been different.

The first people he told were Zayn and Liam. He still remembers the proud, supportive smiles on their faces, the warmth of their hugs. It made him feel on top of the world, like he could do anything.

It still took him time to build up the courage to tell his mum and stepdad Mark though.

That’s where it all went wrong.

When he finally told them, they were both silent and that frightened Louis more than anything else. Eventually his mum pressed a kiss to his forehead and told him she still loved him. Mark said nothing.

Louis regrets telling them often for that reason alone.

Mark never supported Louis’ penchant for theater, his love for acting. Instead, he had always encouraged Louis to focus on footie and for a long time, Louis did because he wanted nothing more than to make Mark proud.

He didn’t want to make another man leave his mother.

After some time though, Louis realized he couldn’t live his life for other people. He had to do what made him happy or he’d be miserable for the rest of his life. Using his money from working at the cinemas, he took headshots for prospect auditions and signed up for acting classes and saved the rest up for travel expenses. He told only Zayn and Liam about his plans.

Balancing all of that on his plate along with being on the football team was taking a toll on him and eventually, he quit the team and started to focus solely on his acting career.

Things started taking a turn for the worst soon after that. After Mark found out that Louis quit the football team, he began making snide comments. At first, it didn’t bother Louis. He figured it was just a playful ribbing but it started to get progressively worse and worse until the point that Mark was throwing slurs in Louis’ face as though it was nothing.

Around the same time, his mum and Mark started fighting. Louis still doesn’t know what they would fight about but he has a feeling than more often than not, it had to do with him. Mark never signed up for a gay son, not one who was invested in theater and acting and things that seemed like a fairytale at the time.

There were other problems; financial problems and Mark’s new job made it so he was rarely home and his mother was also never home because of her shifts at the hospital. It was just Louis and the girls and there was never any time for anything anymore. Instead there was fighting and lashing out and a toxic environment that only worsened the longer it went on.

The day that things snapped was when Louis came home one day and announced to the family as a whole that he had an audition for multi-millionaire producer Simon Cowell for his new film.

Mark had scoffed, rolling his eyes, muttering something that sounded vaguely like, “ _Pathetic twink_ ,” or perhaps it had been, “ _Worthless faggot,_ ” and the thing is that Louis had never been one to bite his tongue.

That’s what got him a black eye and a chest that felt like it was burning from the lack of air.

Somehow, his mother managed to make Mark stop before he was able to do anything worse and without a word, Louis struggled to pick himself off the floor and fled to his room.

The same night, Mark’s bags were packed and his car was gone. Louis’ mum cried for hours and Louis did his best to shield the girls from the heart wrenching sobs that echoed through the house.

Sometimes Louis thinks back to his childhood, the years when Mark would kick a football around with him and tousle his hair and smile at him, saying, “Good pass, son.”

Those memories make him sick to his stomach.

Then he remembers the boy from the movie premiere, the one who had to deal with same slurs as Louis did while Louis stood by idly.

Louis could be making a difference. Louis can be making a difference.

His phone buzzes then and when he looks down at it, it’s a new text from Harry that reads _You remind me of sunshine and rainbows and happiness_. Louis’ focus goes to the word _rainbows_.

Louis will be making a difference.

He sends Harry a quick text back with the sun emoji, the rainbow emoji and a smiling emoji. Then he texts Ezgi, confirming the pap walk. Lastly, he takes the shirt in his hands again and thinks _I can do it_.

—

The photos hit the internet the next morning. Louis isn’t supposed to check it but he does anyways because Liam tells him that _The Independent_ has written an article on him. It turns out to be true and it’s titled **Louis Tomlinson supports gay Apple CEO Tim Cook**.

It makes him nervous, just a little but it also makes him feel almost giddy.

He only reads that one article before shutting his laptop and texting Harry, asking if he wants to come over for dinner.

Harry responds almost immediately with confirmation and for once in Louis’ life, it seems like everything is going swimmingly.

—

“I thought you couldn’t cook?” Harry wonders, looking amused and Louis shrugs his shoulders, holding the chair out for the younger man to sit down.

“I can’t,” Louis replies, taking his own seat and scratching the back of his neck. “I burned this meal twice before I got it right and even then, Liam had to supervise me to make sure I didn’t set anything on fire again.”

Harry looks up from the meal, (which is a stunning display of chicken stuffed with mozzarella, wrapped in parma ham with a side of homemade mash, if Louis might say so himself) and his expression is so soft that Louis feels all the nervous tension in his shoulder disappear. “You didn’t have to do all that for me,” he murmurs.

Louis smiles, feeling unexpectedly bashful as he looks down at his own plate. “I wanted to.”

He can feel Harry still staring at him and he doesn’t think he can look up or he himself might burst into flames on the spot. Then again, when he’s with Harry he feels fireproof; invincible even.

For the rest of the meal, Harry tells him about his day and Louis listens intently while some indie band plays from Harry’s phone where it’s connected to the sound dock.

Louis has never fancied himself romantic but right here, right now, having a dinner with Harry that he cooked himself, sipping wine, playing footsies under the table and smiling at each other across it, he thinks that maybe he’s a _little_ romantic. Harry makes him want to be.

Harry makes him want to do a lot of things he didn’t know he had the courage for.

That night, Harry stays over and it isn’t even to have sex. Instead, it’s because they’re both full and drowsy after the meal which Harry says is, “The best thing I’ve ever had in my life aside from my mum’s cooking. I swear.” Louis is almost inclined to believe him because of how earnest he looks.

Harry demands cuddles as a dessert and Louis is more than happy to oblige and somehow they end up with their limbs tangled together in Louis’ bed, half asleep.

He’s almost completely lost to dreams when Harry pokes him insistently with his pointer finger.

Louis blinks at him a few times, trying to make his shape out in the dark but it’s hard. Lyrics fly through his mind then, _Let me take your heart, love you in the dark, no one has to see_. The thought passes relatively quickly because Harry pokes him again.

“What?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I—erm. Can I be the little spoon?” Harry whispers and his face catches in the moonlight coming through the slant of Louis’ window. He looks unsure but also hopeful and Louis has never been with one person long enough to have a definitive cuddling position but he thinks being the big spoon for Harry sounds like a job he would love to fulfill.

“Of course,” he assures, squeezing Harry’s waist gently. “Roll over and budge up then, love.”

Harry grins brightly at him, outshining the moon and the stars as he turns around in Louis’ arms so his back is pressed against Louis’ chest.

Louis tightens his hold on the younger man and buries his face in Harry’s hair, inhaling the faint smell of lime before pressing a soft kiss where Harry’s shoulder and neck meet. “Goodnight, Haz,” he murmurs.

“Goodnight, Lou,” Harry mumbles back and Louis falls asleep with a smile on his face.

—

Louis has always loved football. Maybe not as much as acting but he has always loved it, regardless. For a long time, he couldn’t think of the sport without associating it with horrible memories but he’s gotten better.

Which is why when Harry invites him to a game for the town’s youth football team, Louis is excited.

He coerces Zayn and Liam into going and Harry says Niall is going too and the five of them decide to head down there together in Harry’s deathtrap of a truck.

“Louis used to be on our school’s footie team,” Liam mentions to Harry when they’re finding seats on the bleachers. Zayn winces and Louis watches as he squeezes Liam’s elbow. Liam looks confused before his face drains of blood and he casts Louis an apologetic glance. “Sorry, didn’t mean to bring it up,” he whispers but it’s loud enough for both Harry and Niall to hear anyways.

Harry looks worried immediately. “Should I not have asked you to come with?” he asks, biting his bottom lip, eyes wide with concern.

Louis shakes his head and when he says it, he’s addressing both Liam and Harry, “It’s fine. I promise.”

It takes a moment but after Louis squeezes Harry’s hand, trying to reassure him, he looks appeased. Liam however looks mystified and he sees him mouth _explain later_? Louis nods in agreement when Harry isn’t looking.

The game is fun to watch, just a bunch of happy children ranging from ten to sixteen on the field, messing about with a ball. It reminds of his days back in Doncaster.

There’s a boy that reminds Louis especially of himself back then and he has the number 28 on his back which is the same number that Louis used to have. Louis keeps his eyes on that boy through the game and he’s good; not the best but definitely good. Unlike some of the other boys playing, number 28 is a bit smaller and slighter in figure, with dark messy hair and he’s fluid in his movements.

Maybe Louis is projecting but he swears number 28 is distracted by number 26 sometimes, an awkward gangly boy who can’t quite seem to get a grasp of the game but seems to be happy playing all the same.

When the coach blows the whistle, signaling the end of the game, Louis tugs on Harry’s arm as they stand up. “Come with me?” he pleads.

Harry gives him a curious look but agrees and the two of them promise to catch up with the others in a few minutes.

They walk down to the pitch, arms hooked together and when they get there, some of the players are still sitting on the benches, talking to each other.

As Louis hoped, number 28 is still there and it hits Louis then that he has no idea what he’s doing. It’s all instinctual. He turns towards Harry and gestures to the boy with a tilt of his head. “What’s his name?” he whispers, a precaution.

Even though Louis is wearing a beanie and sunglasses as an attempt at a disguise, it seems a lot of the teenagers around him recognize him anyways because they’re staring at him with vapid interest.

“That’s Neil,” Harry whispers back, the question he’s not asking evident in his voice.

Louis nods before pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s cheek and disengaging their arms to walk over to Neil. He sits down next to him on the bench which creaks and Neil turns his head in confusion.

When Neil sees him, his eyes widen and he fishmouths.

“Hello,” Louis says, offering the young boy a smile.

“Um. Hi. You were in that movie—” Neil starts and Louis cuts him off quickly.

“Yes, I probably was,” he agrees before nudging Neil’s shoulder. “You did good out there.”

Neil flushes bright pink and Louis holds in his laugh. “T-t-thank you,” he stammers, looking both embarrassed and pleased.

“You seem a bit distracted though,” Louis hedges, voice quieter now. Only the boy sitting closest to Neil and possibly Harry who’s watching with interest can hear their conversation.

Beside him, Neil stiffens, just slightly. “Oh. I was—uh. Just tired,” he replies, almost defensively.

Louis’ smile widens and he shakes his head. “Tired?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. He cuts his eyes pointedly over to the next bench. Number 26 is sitting there, watching the both of them with barely concealed concern etched into his expression. That’s interesting.

Neil follows his gaze and turns even pinker.

Before Neil can say anything, Louis gently knocks shoulders with him again and number 26’s eyes narrow and his nostrils flare. Even more interesting.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs to Neil. “It’s sweet even.”

Neil blinks in surprise. “It’s not… weird?” and then in a quieter tone, “ _I’m_ not weird?”

Louis swallows past the lump in the back of his throat to quickly assure the younger boy. “No. No, it’s fine. It’s great, actually. And so are you.”

“I… really?” Neil wonders and he sounds absolutely terrified.

Suddenly Louis feels a bit terrified too and his heart feels heavy in his chest. “I promise,” he tells him Neil earnestly. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you.”

He hears Neil swallow nervously before he asks, “Why are you telling me this?”

Louis sighs, shoulders slumping and he looks over at Harry who’s pretending not to listen. He feels like he’s laying himself bare when he says, “Because it would’ve been nice to have someone tell me that when I was in the same spot as you.”

Neil is silent for a moment before he mumbles, “Thank you,” and then he offers Louis a hesitant smile.

Those two words help bring Louis’ world back in focus and instead of feeling heavy, his heart swells. “You’re welcome,” he replies softly, patting Neil’s shoulder. After a beat, he hopefully adds, “And it’s none of my business but I think you should tell him. He might surprise you.”

Neil is watching number 26 again with soft eyes when he replies, “I don’t know. I really like Olly but…” and then he quickly turns away when number 26— _Olly_ , Louis amends in his head—catches him looking. It’s really cute. “I’ll think about it?”

Louis smiles, nodding. “Well, I wish you luck if you do.” He squeezes Neil’s shoulder before standing up and walking back over to Harry.

“That was really lovely of you to do,” Harry tells him when he’s close enough and there’s a huge, goofy smile on his face.

In response Louis shrugs but feels a surge of happiness at the words. “Sometimes you just need someone to make you strong,” he replies, looping arms with Harry as they walk off the field. “It’s not wrong to need someone.”

“Speaking from personal experience?” Harry wonders curiously.

Up ahead, Liam, Zayn and Niall are standing off the side of the bleachers, engaged in conversation. Liam has Zayn’s scarf around his neck and Zayn’s hand is in Liam’s back pocket.

Five years ago, it was Zayn and Liam that made him strong. It was their unending support that got him through. Now though, Louis thinks it might not be them anymore. He takes a look at Harry, with his cheeks flushed from the cold and forest green eyes that reflect the sun.

“Yeah,” he admits, “I have someone that makes me want to be strong and brave and courageous.”

Harry hums from beside him. “I think you already were those things though,” he says softly. “Maybe all you needed was someone to make you realize that.”

Louis stares at him wondrously and eventually, unsure how else to respond he stretches a bit to kiss him softly before dropping back down to the flats of his feet.

“I’m glad I met you,” he says quietly, reaching down to intertwine their hands.

Harry’s thumb strokes over the back of his hand, along his knuckles as he says, “I’m glad I met you too.”

—

“How come you’ve never invited me up here before?” Louis wonders, lounging on the couch in Zayn and Liam’s living room while flipping through channels on the telly.

Zayn lets out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes and shoving at Louis’ feet which stay firmly rested in his lap. “We have, you tosser. You said and I quote word for word, ‘Why the fuck would I visit farmsville? I’ll fly you out to London this weekend instead!’ in case you forgot.”

“Oh,” Louis replies, blinking a few times before shrugging. “Whatever.” For some reason, his best friend snorts and Louis casts him a second glance. “What?”

“Nothing,” Zayn replies, tapping a rhythm into one of Louis’ ankles.

“No, come on, what is it?” Louis wonders, holding himself up with his elbows. “Give it to me straight, Z.”

Zayn keeps tapping against his ankles, keeping his focus on the telly and Louis frowns at him. He picks up the remote again and switches the telly off before lightly kicking Zayn. “I’m not above threatening you,” he reminds.

That gets Zayn’s attention and he raises an eyebrow. “Threatening me with what exactly?”

That’s… that’s a good point. Louis huffs, sitting up straighter and crossing his arms. “I’m not above sitting on you,” he finally decides.

“Nothing I’m not used to,” Zayn sing-songs, looking all too amused.

Louis swats Zayn’s arm, making a face. “That’s _gross_ , I don’t want to hear about your and Liam’s sex life,” he complains half-heartedly.

Zayn chuckles, squeezing Louis’ ankle before continuing tapping. “It’s just that I never thought you’d like Holmes Chapel,” the younger man says after a moment.

“What?” Louis replies, not having expected that. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not really your scene, Lou,” Zayn intones, raising an eyebrow. “They’re not wrong when they call you city boy.”

Louis curls on himself a little and shrugs one shoulder. “I’ve never experienced anything but the city, that’s all,” he defends himself.

Zayn hums, fingers finally stilling on Louis’ ankle. “I don’t think that’s it. I think you’ve just found someone that makes every place feel like home.”

They always joke about Zayn being deep because occasionally he spouts out these random phrases that makes everything else insignificant in comparison. This is one of those times. Louis sighs, reaching for the remote. “It’s casual,” he tells him, flicking through channels again.

It feels like a lie.

Zayn seems to know it too.

But because Zayn knows when not to push Louis, he doesn’t do anything other than squeeze Louis’ ankle one more time and get off the couch, heading towards the kitchen where Liam is.

—

Harry genuinely seems to know every single person in the town. It’s kind of alarming.

No matter what they’re doing, Harry can name off everyone in the room without blinking an eye and everyone seems to know him too, always greeting the two of them with nothing but smiles.

That’s probably why only a few weeks into his stay, everyone in the town seems to know who _Louis_ is. Not just Louis Tomlinson but Louis. They treat him like a normal person after their initial shock wears off and not a single one of them blab to the media about where he is.

They respect him and are kind to him and smile or wave at him when they see him in the streets. Maybe it’s because of Harry, maybe it’s not, but it makes Louis happy all the same.

Harry has wormed his way into Louis’ life and under his skin. It scares Louis a little. He’s never had someone he’s connected to this quickly and this well. With Harry, it just kind of happened.

It’s easy with him. It’s easy to forget the rest of the world and lose himself in Harry’s laugh, in the sweeping blink of his eyelashes against his cheek, of his voice slow and sweet like molasses. When he’s with Harry, he feels on top of the world.

In the simplest terms, Harry makes Louis happy and in all honesty, Louis doesn’t know if he’s been truly happy in a long time.

His career makes him happy, it does; but it comes with so many lies and a lifetime of deceit which tends to overshadow the better parts. At the beginning of his acting career, everything was simple and fun and just a tad overwhelming but in the best way. Now, it feels suffocating for more reason than one. He misses how it used to feel. He wants to feel that way again.

He wants everything to feel new again, to have his senses overloaded and to be awestruck.

With Harry, it feels that way a lot.

That’s a big part of the reason that Louis keeps insisting that what they have—it’s casual, it’s simple. It’s nothing to get worked up over. It’s because he knows the second it becomes bigger than that, it’ll get stuck in the web of lies that his life is.

He doesn’t think he can bear to let this sweet, sweet boy become involved in any of that. He refuses to. He won’t let Harry become what suffocates him.

The only thing is he hasn’t quite figured out how to prevent it. As of now, his only option is to untangle himself from the web too and that’s something he doesn’t know how to do.

Not yet, at least.

—

“Here’s your check, Harry,” a waitress says, handing Harry a little booklet and offering him a kind smile before she disappears.

Louis raises an eyebrow at Harry who licks the last bit of their dessert off his thumb coquettishly. “You’re awful,” he reprimands but there’s no heat behind it.

Across from him, Harry grins. “Is there a problem?”

“Yeah, you,” Louis quips back immediately before reaching for the checkbook to see the total. He insisted Harry let him pay but the younger man refused. Eventually they reached a compromise of splitting the bill down the middle.

They’re at one of the few fancy restaurants Holmes Chapel has and the entire staff has dropped by, greeting Harry hello. It’s rather unfortunate that Louis has a jealous streak a mile long though.

He has to actually bite his lip to keep from saying anything too snarky when one of the waiters blatantly flirts with Harry. It turns out to be okay though because for some reason Louis still can’t fathom, Harry seems to only have eyes for him.

“That’s quite rude,” Harry replies, lightly kicking out at Louis’ foot.

Louis kicks back just as gently before reaching up and pushing his fringe out of his eyes. “Yeah, well you’re quite rude,” he retorts, pointedly staring at Harry’s fingers which he’d spent a good portion of the night using suggestively.

“I prefer cheeky,” Harry teases rather smugly and Louis rolls his eyes.

They both pay their halves of the check and as they’re leaving, the man in the waiting area greets them goodbye with a tip of his hat. “Goodnight Harry, hope you and your boyfriend had a nice night,” he says.

Louis freezes in the doorway and beside him, Harry falters too, turning almost hesitantly.

“He’s not—erm. We’re just—he’s not,” Harry finally stammers out.

Louis’ web of lies continues to thicken.

“We’re dating,” Louis clarifies to the man who looks confused as he nods along. Then Louis turns back to Harry who’s biting his lip, looking apprehensive. “All good, love?”

Harry gives him a disheartening thumbs up and Louis nearly sighs but holds it in at the last second.

Later, they’re walking to Louis’ cottage silently and Louis is trying to figure out what to say to fix this. He hasn’t been someone’s boyfriend since he was eighteen years old; he doesn’t know the rights apart from the wrongs.

It’s rather obvious that this is one of the wrongs though.

The idea of asking Harry to be his boyfriend terrifies him to the core but the scarier thing is that the thought of losing Harry because of something this trivial is more frightening.

Louis knows this could come back and bite him in the arse. He can’t say it’s casual if Harry’s his boyfriend but he can’t just act like a dickhead without an explanation either. It’s up to him to fix this.

He could cut ties now, just let Harry drift away from him before either of them get seriously hurt but Louis is drawn to Harry like a moth drawn to a flame. There’s no way he could just cut Harry out of his life now.

There are only two options left for him now and one ends horrible heartbreak and the other… well Louis isn’t sure yet.

Louis takes a deep breath before he presses his shoulder against Harry’s. “You could be, you know?”

Harry blinks up at him, clearly confused because they’ve been quiet the entire time. “Could be what?” he asks slowly.

It takes all the willpower he has to say, “My boyfriend. You could be my boyfriend.”

Around them, the world is silent. All Louis hears is the even sounding of Harry’s breathing and his own heart beating in his ears.

Harry is the one to break the silence. “Is this your way of asking me to be your boyfriend?” he asks, looking on the edge of a smile.

Louis flushes, looking away. “Maybe.”

When Harry giggles, all of Louis’ inhibitions disappear. “Then _maybe_ I’ll be your boyfriend,” is Harry’s reply, accompanied with a sweet, bashful smile.

There’s never been anyone that makes Louis’ stomach flutter with butterflies from just a smile but Harry Styles is currently doing that.

“ _Maybe_ I would like that a lot,” Louis admits, licking his lips uncertainly.

Harry laughs bright and full then. “Just kiss me, you fool,” he says and Louis is more than happy to oblige, reaching up to kiss the younger man. He can taste the cheesecake they had for desert and the strawberry of Harry’s favorite chapstick.

When Louis pulls away, he feels a warmth spread in his chest, a small fire that roars with the heat of a million shooting stars. “Guess we’re boyfriends, then?”

“Guess so,” Harry mumbles, eyes bright.

They’re still walking to Louis’ cottage just down the road when something wet splashes against the back of Louis’ neck. It’s followed by a few more wet drops against the back of his hand where it’s intertwined with Harry’s and along the ridge of his nose. Louis falters in step to look at Harry. “Is it supposed to rain today?”

“I have no clue,” Harry confesses but with his free hand, he takes his phone out to pull up the weather app. By the time he manages to do that, his phone screen is splattered with an array of raindrops, effectively answering Louis’ question.

A clap of thunder confirms it further and Louis jumps at the sound, clutching Harry’s hand tighter.

“Scared?” Harry asks and the bastard sounds amused.

Louis scowls at him. “No,” he denies fiercely, “I just don’t want to get pneumonia.”

In reply, Harry rolls his eyes and his lips curls up in one corner, a crooked smile taking over his face. “You’ll be fine, Lou. Plus, haven’t you always wanted to kiss in the rain? Like in the movies?” he teases.

“I resent that,” Louis mutters and that’s when rain starts pouring down in buckets, drenching the both of them.

Harry laughs delightedly because he’s absolutely insane before slipping his hand out of Louis’ grasp to extend his arms out at either side. He lifts his face up towards the sky and shuts his eyes, a wide smile on his face.

“What’s wrong with you?” Louis shouts to be heard over the roaring thunder.

“Join me!” Harry shouts back, eyelashes fluttering open to reveal electric green eyes. “Live a little.”

Louis makes a face at him and pushes the wet hair out of his own eyes before dignifying Harry with a response. “I live just fine, thank you.”

Harry laughs again and shakes his head. “Come on Lou. Let’s go crazy until we see the sun.”

“It’s night time,” Louis deadpans just as a bolt of lightning flashes across the sky.

It captures Harry’s attention, the younger man looking up with wonderment written across his face. “Isn’t it beautiful?” he asks, sounding in awe. Then he looks back down, expression soft. “There’s a lightning in your eyes I can’t deny.”

Louis wishes he weren’t as whipped for this man as he is. “You’re ridiculous,” he murmurs and somehow Harry hears him over all the noise.

“Yeah, and you’re carved from lightning,” Harry replies, cheeks dimpling as though he’s coming up with something inherently clever.

Maybe it’s to shut Harry up or maybe it’s to stop himself from saying something he really shouldn’t but Louis crosses the distance between them and presses his lips against Harry’s.

He doesn’t know when his life because as cliché as _The Notebook_ and it’s kind of horrifying because he’s met and made a bet with Ryan Gosling that he would never kiss someone in the rain. To make matters worse, when they pull apart, Louis somehow finds himself saying, “If I’m made from lightning, then you’re made from lightning,” quoting _The Notebook_ too much for his own taste.

He expects Harry to tease him again but instead the younger man simply smiles and says, “Then let’s pray we stay made of lightning.”

Louis allows himself a little smile but then another clap of thunder sounds and he’s pulling Harry towards his cottage, muttering, “Or pray we don’t catch a cold, baby." The endearment is a new one for him but he finds that he likes it and Harry seems to as well if the way his cheeks flush is any indication.

Later, when they’re lying in bed, Louis lies awake and listens to the storm. Harry’s breathing is soft compared to the harsh beating of rain against the roof, of loud cracks of thunder and quick flashes of lightning that brighten the sky.

Harry is right. Louis is lightning. He burns bright and hot and lights up the whole world but even quicker than that, he burns and fizzles out after cracking open the sky.

And if Louis is the lightning, then Harry is the thunder because he frightens Louis and disrupts the balance, causes Louis’ heart to stutter and makes him want to hide away.

But he can’t because he’s addicted to the storm, he’ll stay up all night and soak it in, until he’s pulled into a false sense of security. Harry isn’t the storm but he’s the most terrifying part. He’s a sharp contrast from Louis’ lightning but together they fit, they belong together and Louis is finding that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He doesn’t tell Harry any of that though. All he mumbles in the morning, still half asleep, is, “You are the thunder and I am the lightning.”

Harry giggles and sings back, “And I love the way you know who you are and to me it’s exciting.”

“That’s not—” Louis starts to protest but then falters because if he tries to explain it, he’ll be laying himself open, making him more vulnerable than he already is. Instead, he says, “She’s a nice person.”

“Who? Selena Gomez?” Harry asks back, taking out a carton of orange juice from Louis’ fridge. “I always forget that you’re like—actually famous. You’ve met all these people. You’re Louis Tomlinson, not just Louis.”

Louis frowns. “I am just Louis,” he mutters, just a tad defensive.

“To me, yeah,” Harry retorts, laughing.

“Yeah,” Louis echoes, a strange feeling creeping over him. “To you.”

Those words are a quick reality check. Louis’ break is over in less than a month. He has to leave then and go back to being Louis Tomlinson, award winning actor who’s stuck in the closet. Not the Louis that spends his days lounging in Holmes Chapel, falling in love with a boy he can’t give enough to.

 _I’d give you the world_ , Louis thinks while watching Harry dance along to the radio, cooking eggs with messy hair and bare feet. _Just ask me for it_.

—

Late one night when Louis is looking over another script while Harry naps in his lap, tucked into the couch similarly to a kitten curled up, he gets a call.

He snatches his phone up quickly before the ringtone can wake Harry up and slides his thumb across the screen, answering. “Hello?”

“Louis, love, do you have a second?” Kara wonders on the other end and Louis is immediately alert.

“Yeah, sure, what’s up?” he asks, slowly inching himself out from underneath Harry and placing one of the couch pillows underneath Harry’s head.

“We didn’t want to bother you too much since you’re on break and all, but we were wondering if you were up for doing an interview? To help the seeding process along?” she asks.

Louis furrows his eyebrows and looks back at Harry who’s still fast asleep. Not wanting to risk waking him up, he starts walking to the back of his cottage. “An interview?” he repeats before shaking his head, despite knowing she can’t see him. “I’m not leaving before my break is over.”

“That’s fine!” Kara reassures just as Louis pushes the back door open and steps out onto the grass with bare feet. It’s chilly outside and it doesn’t help that all he’s wearing is a hoodie and pair of sweatshorts. “We were actually thinking maybe you could an interview over the phone?”

Leaning his back against the cottage, Louis huffs a breath out. “What would I have to say?” he asks carefully.

“I’m glad you asked!” Kara replies cheerfully and then launches into a fifteen minute explanation on how to drop key-terms that will cause mass speculation without confirming anything directly.

Louis has always loved being in on secrets, of knowing things that no one else does. He loves inside jokes and knowing he’s trusted with that tidbit of knowledge.

Knowing that right now the secret is his sexuality makes him feel more than a little perturbed.

“I can still… I can still turn back on this though, right? If I go through with this, it doesn’t mean I _have_ to come out, right?” he asks quietly, picking at a loose string in his jumper.

“No, I suppose not,” Kara says slowly. “But we are going through with this until you tell us not to. So if you decide you don’t want to come out anymore, you have to tell us right away so we can do damage control. Until then though… you’re on your way out, Lou.”

Louis inhales a bit too sharply at those words. “Alright,” he replies monotonously and then he hangs up. He sits down in the grass, watches the stars and convinces himself to breathe.

That’s how Harry finds him.

Harry is clearly more prepared than he is because when he sits down next to Louis, he offers half a blanket out for Louis to burrow into.

“Are you alright?” Harry murmurs, eyes clouded with concern.

Louis presses against his side, happy to find that Harry is very warm. “Just thinking, baby,” he answers vaguely and he offers Harry what he hopes is a smile.

“About what?” Harry quips, resting his hand on Louis’ thigh. Louis doesn’t remember a time when someone did that to him just to steady him, to anchor him. Harry is strange.

Instead of answering, Louis looks back up at the sky. “Do you ever think about what life would be like if you hadn’t done that _one_ thing? If you could, would you change that thing?” is what he eventually asks.

Harry doesn’t respond for a while and when Louis glances over, the younger man seems to be deep in thought, clearly giving the question importance.

“I think…” Harry starts, eyes focused somewhere far in the distance. “I think there are infinite universes and for every decision you never made, another universe was created. A universe where you did make that decision. And maybe it’s a small decision like forgetting a pencil at school or a huge decision like getting married, but for each decision no matter how big or small there’s another universe. Every decision you’ve ever made is what led you to this point in life. It’s what made you who you are. I think that no one should ever regret who they are. So no, I wouldn’t change anything.”

Louis stares at Harry incredulously for a few moments but then he shakes his head, clearing his thoughts a little. “What if it was for the better?”

Harry tilts his head considering before he shrugs, nonplussed. “No, not even then. We shouldn’t focus on things in the past. If we want things to be better, we should work on changing things in the future. It’s the decisions we make now that matter.”

They’re both quiet for a while and Louis is the one to break the silence. “Do you think the stars are universes?”

In response, Harry smiles and Louis falls in love. “Let’s catch the stars and find out.”

—

“Tell me a story,” Louis requests quietly one night when they’re watching a movie. He doesn’t mention it to Harry but he’s pretty sure he was offered a role as a supporting actor in this film.

“What kind of story?” Harry asks, twisting his head from where it’s lying in Louis’ lap.

Louis shrugs and continues carding his fingers through Harry’s hair gently. “Any kind of story.”

Harry pursues his lips, a considering expression taking over his face. Unable to help himself, Louis leans down to kiss his nose. It breaks Harry’s concentration because he giggles before batting at Louis uselessly. “I’m thinking,” he protests but then tilts his face up, puckering his lips.

Louis obliges easily, kissing him lightly before pulling back. “Story,” he repeats, tugging on a strand of Harry’s hair.

“Demanding,” Harry mutters but his eyes are shining. “Okay, so once upon a time…”

When he doesn’t continue, Louis tugs on the strand again and Harry whines, burying his face into Louis’ thigh. “Lou, stop it,” he grumbles.

“Tell me a story, baby,” Louis retorts, winding one of Harry’s curls around his finger and tugging even more sharply. “And I’ll stop bothering you.”

Harry bites down lightly on his thigh and Louis blinks at him, slightly shocked. Before Louis can comment, Harry sighs long-sufferingly and starts to speak. “So once there was a princess stuck in a castle—”

Louis raises an eyebrow but lets Harry tell him the plot of _Tangled_ regardless. He has a feeling the story choice was inspired more by Louis’ fingers winding through Harry’s hair than anything else.

“And so Eugene loved Rapunzel too much to allow her to be a prisoner so he cut all of her hair off, despite knowing he would die,” Harry tells him quietly. Louis thinks that’s a huge sacrifice to make for someone but he also thinks he can understand having an all-consuming love where you’d give anything if it meant the other person’s safety, their happiness.

As Harry continues to speak, Louis finds himself listening intently, completely enraptured.

His hand is slack in Harry’s hair right now because he’s too busy watching Harry’s lips move and the expression on his face as he tells a story Louis knows like the back of his hand. His sisters made him watch _Tangled_ one too many times and Harry retelling it makes him miss them more. He’ll have to see them soon.

“Then they got married and lived happily ever after!” Harry finishes and he finally sits up, leaning his back against Louis’ chest. He doesn’t know how Harry manages to always make himself smaller than he is but it’s incredibly endearing.

Louis smiles, pressing a kiss to Harry's cheek. "My very own raconteur," he coos playfully.

Harry rolls his eyes and pinches Louis' arm. “Are you happy now?”

Louis stares at Harry for a second before he answers. His hair is messy, probably from Louis’ hands having run through them for the better part of the last hour and his eyes are the color of lily pads, sparkling in the faint sunlight seeping in through one of the opened windows in Louis’ cottage. His lips are coral pink and one of Louis’ hands come up so he can press his thumb against Harry’s bottom lip.

Harry doesn’t say anything, just watches curiously.

“Always happy when I’m with you,” Louis finally answers and leans forward, pressing his lips against Harry’s. The younger man makes a small noise of surprise but returns the kiss a second later.

Louis brushes his thumb along Harry’s cheekbone, pulling back to press a kiss against his jaw softly. “You’re so, so lovely, do you know that?” he whispers.

Harry exhales softly, eyes focused on Louis’ lips. “I want to kiss you all the time,” is Harry’s reply before the younger man ducks forward, capturing Louis’ lips with his own.

One of Louis’ hands find its way into Harry’s hair, tugging sharply and Harry gasps into his mouth before he makes a move to straddle his lap. Louis easily accommodates him, settling his hands on Harry’s hips, pulling him closer.

“Want everything with you,” Harry tells him, eyes fluttering shut as Louis’ lips trail down the column of his throat. Louis bites down sharply at the base of Harry’s throat, eliciting a quiet groan from Harry.

“Want to give you everything,” Louis mumbles, before his hands travel down Harry’s legs, gripping tightly around his thighs and standing up. Harry huffs in surprise but tightens his own arms around Louis’ neck as he carries them to his bedroom.

He sets Harry down on the bed before crawling between his legs to kiss him again. Harry’s legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer and Louis’ cock twitches in interest at the dark look on his boyfriend’s face.

Their lips meet in a messy kiss, slick and wet as Louis runs his hands along Harry’s chest, thumbing one of his nipples through his shirt before slipping his hand underneath Harry’s shirt so he can get better access. Harry bucks up at his touch, basically mewling.

“Patience, love,” Louis teases, smirking as he shifts so he can unbutton Harry’s shirt. He does it slowly, letting his fingers drag along Harry’s skin, along his butterfly tattoo and then brushing against the waistband of his jeans. Harry whimpers and Louis clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Baby, come on.”

Harry makes an effort not to move then, biting his lip harshly and Louis grins wolfishly. Under his thumb, Harry’s nipple perks up and he pinches it between his fingers, causing Harry to let out a low keening noise. He leans down and takes Harry’s other nipple in his mouth, biting down lightly.

His own cock is straining in his joggers but he keeps his focus on Harry, whose face is flushed pink. His eyes have dilated so that only a small ring of green surrounds his dark pupils and he’s staring at Louis like a man who’s starving.

Louis leaves a trail of kisses down Harry’s chest until he gets to the waistband of his jeans. Before he can do anything about them, Harry is tugging on the shirt Louis is still wearing. Obliging, Louis takes it off in one swift motion before undoing the buttons on Harry’s jeans and pulling them off as well.

He sucks a bruise into Harry’s thigh before tilting his head to face Harry. “What do you want, baby?”

Harry shakes his head and clenches his fists at his side. “I don’t know—just want you.”

Louis hums before he presses his thumb into the bruise he just made. “No preference?”

Again, Harry shakes his head and Louis takes a second to think about what he’d like to do to this pretty boy laid out all needy for him. Before he does that though, he leans up press a kiss to Harry’s slack lips.

“Turn over,” he orders then, scooting back on the bed to give Harry space. “Hands and knees.”

Harry obeys almost immediately, rolling over before raising himself up onto his arms. Louis strokes a gentle hand over his back before kissing the base of his spine. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he mumbles into Harry’s skin.

Louis slowly pulls Harry’s briefs down and presses another kiss to the back of his thigh before playfully biting his arsecheek. “Alright?” he asks him.

Harry makes a vague noise of agreement before pushing his arse further in Louis’ face. Louis chuckles before his hands come up to hold Harry’s hips still. “Don’t move,” he instructs and Harry nods where his face is buried into a pillow.

It’s been awhile since he’s slept with someone, Louis will admit that. But he’s always been best at this, at making boys shake and quiver from just his tongue, beg him for release through tears.

Louis spreads Harry’s arsecheeks apart and blows gently. As he expected, Harry’s thighs start to shake and it only spurs Louis on.

He ducks his head forward, tongue flicking out to lick the skin there tentatively. At the first lick, Harry drops to his forearms, a sharp gasp exhaling from his lips. Louis smirks and his tongue flicks over Harry’s hole. He wonders briefly how his scruff must feel against Harry’s thighs because he briefly recalls Harry mentioning something about enjoying the burn.

Pressing closer, Louis licks a broad stripe over Harry’s hole, tongue flat. He can feel spit running down his face and he finds that he doesn’t mind; it’s one of his favorite parts, getting messy.

Harry is squirming underneath him, making pretty noises and pushing his arse back greedily. Louis pulls away for a second but his thumb rubs a circle over Harry’s spit slick hole, spreading the wetness. “Baby, you’ve got to stay still,” he tells him, running his other hand over the soft skin of Harry’s thigh.

In reply, Harry makes a high keening noise and Louis can see his hole clench as his thighs shake. It’s too tempting and Louis finds his way between Harry’s arsecheeks again, licking into him roughly. “Please, Lou, _please_ ,” Harry pleads, muffled into the pillow.

Louis' tongue is pointed when he finally thrusts it into Harry’s hole and underneath him, Harry mewls but he follows Louis’ instructions and doesn’t move. He can see how hard it is for him not to because he’s visibly quivering and repeatedly muttering, “ _Lou, Lou, Lou, Lou_.”

Louis slackens his jaw, pressing his tongue in as deep as he can while soothingly rubbing his hands up and down Harry’s thighs. He pulls back to mumble praise against Harry’s skin before thrusting his tongue back in. “I can’t—Louis, I—” Harry doesn’t finish the sentence, cutting himself off with a loud whine.

He hesitates for a moment but then eases a finger in alongside his tongue and that seems to completely ruin Harry because he sobs loudly and his knees nearly give out. Louis holds his hips tightly to keep him from collapsing.

He continues to lick Harry’s hole as he comes and then a few times after that until Harry sobs again, trying to pull back from the oversensitivity.

Louis relents and gently turns Harry over.

There are tears streaking down his cheeks and his lips are red and puffy from him biting them. His eyes are rimmed red and his cheeks are flushed with blood, topping off the fucked-out look. Louis doesn’t know why it makes him smile fondly but it does.

It’s only when he leans up to kiss Harry that he remembers his own neglected cock. Harry seems to realize the same time he does because despite the weariness written across his face, one of Harry's hands reaches into Louis’ joggers, fingers wrapping around his cock.

It only takes a few strokes before Louis is coming in Harry’s hand, soiling his joggers. He groans against Harry’s collarbone and melts against him. “You’re lovely,” he mumbles.

Harry beams at him and Louis watches with vague interest as Harry pulls his hand out from Louis’ pants and licks his fingers clean. He tucks that thought away for later as he rolls off Harry and settles against his pillows.

Before he can fall asleep from pure exhaustion, Harry noses at his shoulder. “What is it?” he asks, fluttering his eyes open so he can look at Harry’s surprisingly shy smile.

“Can we cuddle?” he requests, biting his lip hopefully.

Louis smiles back at him easily and nods. “Always, baby,” he replies and rolls over, throwing a leg over one of Harry’s.

Harry turns over too, settling so his back is pressed against Louis’ chest. Just as Louis is about to fall asleep, he feels Harry takes one of his hands and press a soft kiss against his knuckles.

He falls asleep with a satisfied, sickeningly fond smile on face.

—

“Hey, Lou, you like theater, don’t you?” Harry asks as soon as he walks through the front door of the cottage.

Louis turns his head to the side to give him a flat look. “No, I absolutely hate it,” he deadpans.

Harry giggles and he walks over to the couch, leaning down and puckering his lips. Louis rolls his eyes but leans up the rest of the way to press a kiss to his lips.

“Guess who has two tickets to a theater production of _Peter Pan_?” Harry quips then, grinning widely and Louis is distracted by his dimples for half a second.

Then the words register and his eyes widen. “Really?” he asks and he doesn’t even try to hide the excitement in his voice.

Harry nods vigorously and pulls out two tickets from behind his back. “Surprise!” he says, looking ready to burst out of his skin with glee.

Louis didn’t even know it was possible to be this in love with a person.

It’s still weird to think those words—he doesn’t know how or when it happened but instead of freaking out about it, he’s decided to accept it as fact and not mention it to anyone but himself. He’s in love with Harry. It’s cool. They’re fine.

“Thank you, baby,” he tells Harry sincerely, reaching out to squeeze one of the younger man’s hands. “You don’t know how unbelievably happy you make me.”

His words make Harry blush and Louis’ heart skips a beat in his chest. He’s so fucked.

—

Louis does a bad thing.

He doesn’t mean for it to come off the way it does but he’s an idiot and he didn’t think things through and now he’s suffering the consequences.

Flying under the radar has always been easy for Louis. He'd usually just ring Alberto up and the two of them would go do whatever Louis had to do. Rarely did anyone ever spot him and when they did, they were usually calm enough that they didn’t cause a scene.

It’s a little different this time around.

This time around, his name has been in the headlines for weeks. Stories circulating about his abrupt departure from the movie premiere, about him supporting the queer community and Tim Cook, about his interview from just last week where he specifically used gender neutral pronouns and then proceeded to go off on a tangent about how fit David Beckham is.

His team advised him specifically that if he were to go out, he had to tell them first and he had to wear a disguise. He couldn’t slip up in the public eye now.

Which is why Louis is dressed in an almost obnoxious disguise because he hadn’t even bothered to let him team know about his outing and he was trying to rectify that by being excessively hidden.

When Harry sees him though, he frowns a little. He doesn’t ask or say anything about it because somehow Louis got lucky enough to find a Samaritan like this lovely boy.

The theater the play is in turns out to be in the city and Louis starts to feel a little jittery, a nervous habit of his. Maybe he should’ve told someone beforehand.

Years and years of being taught how to act in public eye kicks in, the media training similar to a second skin. It’s been a long time since Louis has been out in public in his own skin.

Upon their arrival at the theatre, they get several looks cast their way and Louis knows to an extent that it’s probably because of how ridiculous he looks but despite that, he starts to feel paranoid. When Harry reaches down to intertwine their hands, Louis snatches his hand back quickly.

The look of confused hurt in Harry’s eyes clears his head a little and he suddenly feels incredibly bad. What is he _doing_?

Louis makes an aborted motion to grab Harry’s hand but it’s tucked into his jean pockets now and the younger man stares solely at the floor as they find their seats. Louis frowns but doesn’t push the subject.

During the play itself, Harry seems to relax again and that makes the tension slip from Louis’ own shoulders. It’s only when Harry’s knee nudges against his that he jerks back in his seat.

Harry turns to him with an incredulous look and Louis mouths an apology.

For the rest of the play, Harry doesn’t say a single word nor does he try to touch Louis again. Inside Louis’ head, there’s a voice screaming at him, telling him to fix his mess and it sounds alarmingly like Zayn.

Louis knows he acts stupidly often. Anyone who knows him knows about the massive amount of times he’s fucked up and how the people around him had to drag him out of his own mess by his ankles.

Harry though—Harry believes in him despite that. He thinks Louis is still something pure and lovely and Louis has never understood it but he’s grown used to it.

With a sigh, Louis settles back in his seat and resolves to fix this when they get back to the car. For the rest of the play, he can’t really focus because there’s an almost painful twisting in his stomach. He finds his eyes straying back to Harry’s face often and his expression is blank as he watches the play.

After the play, they’re leaving silently and Harry doesn’t reach for Louis’ hand at all.

They’ve almost made it through the doors when a high pitched voice yells, “Oh my _God_ , Louis Tomlinson?”

Everyone in the room seems to freeze, Louis along with them and he prays the teenage girl who’s staring at him with wide eyes won’t say anything else.

It’s not his lucky day.

“Louis! Oh my God, I love you so much! I’ve seen all your movies! Can I get a picture, please? Oh my God!” she starts shouting and suddenly a dozen other girls show up behind her. There are a few boys lurking in the back too, eyes curious and Louis feels a surge of panic run through him.

The first thing he does is practically rip his disguise off because there’s nothing more embarrassing than being caught out pretending to be someone you aren’t. Thankfully none of the fans have gotten their phones out yet and haven’t managed to take a picture of him.

“Can I get a picture?” she asks again and the fans around him are watching him with the same wide, hopeful eyes.

“Uh…” he turns to look at Harry. All the fans follow his line of sight and Harry looks like a deer caught in the headlights. “Do you mind?” he whispers even though there’s no point.

Louis watches Harry’s adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “No, of course not. Go ahead, Lou.”

His voice sounds kind of off and Louis almost frowns but holds himself back at the last moment. He can’t afford to be frowning in front of all these people. Instead he fixes a beaming smile on his face and turns back towards the fans. “Well get in then!”

The fans are surprisingly orderly at they line up take pictures and that makes Louis feel a little better about his lack of security. Some of the blokes actually come forward too, asking for a picture or an autograph for their girlfriends. One bloke actually asks for his boyfriend and he seems extremely shy.

Before the fan leaves, he hesitates and says, “Erm—recently… what you’ve been doing.. It means a lot to my boyfriend. He really idolizes you and to see you show support for us queer folk actually gave him the courage to come out to his parents.”

Louis chokes up a bit at that and he has to clear his throat before he can quietly ask, “Did it go well?”

The boy nods, smiling. “It went great. So, uh. Thank you… for giving him the courage.”

Louis exhales a little shakily and nods. “Please tell him I wish him the best of luck and—” he glances down at his wrist where there’s a rainbow colored bracelet. His PR team mailed it to him to wear for seeding purposes in case he ever ran into a fan. He reaches down and unclasps the bracelet, holding it in his palm. “Give him this.”

The boy’s eyes widen. “Really?”

With a nod, Louis hands the boy the bracelet. “Tell him I’m proud of him.”

“I will,” the boy agrees awestruck and he smiles again before he makes to leave. He was the last fan left although some from before are lingering, watching him.

Louis offers them a smile before turning to Harry and then faltering when the curly haired man isn’t there. He twists his head a little, trying to see if Harry stood off to the side but he’s nowhere in sight.

He frowns now that he can and after pulling the hood of his sweater up, he leaves the theater, heading towards the car in hopes of seeing Harry there.

Harry is already sitting in the driver’s seat when Louis gets there and Louis can’t help but frown quizzically at him as he walks around the truck to get in the passenger’s seat.

“Alright, baby?” he asks when he slides into his seat.

“Fine,” Harry mutters and his expression is blank.

Louis furrows his eyebrows but decides to let it slide for the first few minutes. It’s only when they’re on the motorway does Louis sigh and turn to face Harry.

“Hey, listen. I’m sorry,” he tells him quietly, hoping his sincerity is conveyed.

Harry’s knuckles tighten on the steering wheel but other than that, he has no physical reaction. “For what?” he asks and his voice is still soft, always soft but so carefully blank. Louis hates it.

“For acting like a dickhead back there,” Louis replies, scratching the back of his head and looking down as his cheeks warm with shame. “I’m not really used to—I haven’t done this in a long, long time. Or ever, actually.”

Harry sighs quietly next to him. “I don’t expect you to come out for me or anything, Lou,” he murmurs and while his eyes are focused on the road, he’s chewing harshly on his bottom lip. “It’s not easy, I know that. I would never force you to do something you didn’t want to. It’s just—when you act like that… it kind of feels like you’re ashamed of me. Of us.”

“ _No_ ,” he states fiercely before he can really think about it. He blinks at himself a little but once his brain clears up a little, he expands. “I’m not. I promise you I’m not. That’s not what this is. I swear to you—it’s not… I could never be embarrassed of you. You make me so happy, Harry and I’m not ashamed of that.”

“I believe you, I guess,” Harry replies, casting him a sideways glance. “It’s just… You can understand why it’s hard though, right?”

Louis has to physically bite his tongue to keep from saying something he shouldn’t. This probably isn’t the time for those three words. Instead, he replies, “I’m not the best person Harry. What you’re assuming is embarrassment isn’t. It’s fear. I’m scared. I’m fucking terrified, alright? I don’t know how to do this and I especially don’t know how to do this with the whole world watching. But… that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it.”

There’s silence for a few minutes aside from the hum of the radio and it’s completely nerve-wracking. Finally Harry whispers, “I wish I could make it all disappear for you. I wish what we have didn’t scare you.”

If Louis were driving, this is probably when he would press down on the brakes and cause the car to screech to a halt. It’s a good thing he isn’t driving.

“Harry, no,” he protests immediately. “That’s not what I mean. That’s the exact opposite of what I mean. God, Harry, you don’t scare me. You make me want to be brave and face all the things that terrify me. If anything, I _need_ you beside me to conquer my fears. And you know what?” Louis takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I say I need you but I don’t care. I’m not scared of love.”

“Love?” Harry’s voice comes out strangled.

“I’m going to keep my mouth shut for the remainder of this drive and we can talk when we get home so I don’t actually die in this car on the chance that you crash,” Louis announces and then pulls his hood so far down his face that it reaches his neck.

He doesn’t know what Harry’s response is but it isn’t verbal.

—

They don’t talk about it. Not that day at least. When they get to Louis’ cottage, Liam, Zayn and Niall are there and it’s easy to pretend the _L_ word didn’t slip past his lips as they all settle in for a boys’ night in.

There’s beer and popcorn and classic movies and it’s fun but the best part is that it’s distracting. By the end of the night, everyone except Louis is asleep and only then does he remember his mistake earlier in the day.

Louis pulls a blanket over Harry’s shoulders where he’s lying on the couch before he heads into the kitchen to make a call.

As it turns out, Louis isn’t that good at hiding things. His PR team already knows about his mess because there’s pictures of him and the fans from the theater all over Twitter and Tumblr and he should’ve expected it but it still catches him off guard.

He expects for them to scold him but instead they tell him about the one fan’s rainbow bracelet story that’s circulating and being picked up by big media outlets. Louis didn’t intend for it to become a _thing_ but it seems that’s what makes it even better. It’s authentic, not crafted.

When they tell him that he can come out at the end of his break if he wants to, Louis nearly suffers from a heart attack in his kitchen.

Later in the middle of the night, that’s how Zayn finds him; sitting on the cold kitchen tile with his phone held tightly in his hand and a terrified look in his eye.

“You need to go home,” Zayn instructs, hands heavy when they come to rest on Louis’ shoulders.

“I am home,” he replies and his voice isn’t steady at all.

Zayn shakes his head, squeezing Louis’ shoulders gently. “Home to your mum. You need to talk to her. We both know what the problem is here, babe and it isn’t Harry.”

“I know,” Louis whispers and shuts his eyes, blocking out the memories. “I know.”

—

He writes a letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_Hi baby. I know I’ve been a bit of an arsehole lately and I wish I had a better reason for it but I don’t. You scare me. Not in the way you seem to be thinking. I’m not embarrassed of being with you, I could never be. You scare me because I’m scared of losing you, I’m scared of bruising you, I’m scared of choosing you._

_Knowing I have the world watching my every step terrifies me, the flashing lights of the paparazzi taking pictures terrifies me, the platform I have that reaches out to millions terrifies me and choosing you means having to face all of that. Holmes Chapel is the real world for you but it isn’t for me. Holmes Chapel is a getaway, it’s a place for me to hide but… you’re not. You’re not something for me to hide. It wouldn’t be fair to you if I chose to hide you._

_I know you said that you don’t expect me to come out for you but… if I want this to last, I know that inevitably I’ll have to come out or you’ll resent me for it. Anyone would. I don’t want that. I **do** want this to last though. I’ve never been so into somebody before. Every time we both touch, I only want more. The problem is I don’t know if I’m capable of giving you more in return. There’s a few things about my past that I haven’t told you and I’m not going to now because it’s not something to say over a letter. Maybe you’ve guessed it, maybe you haven’t. It’s haunted me for the last five years of my life and to quote my ex-therapist, it’s fucked me up a little. A lot, even._

_But I want this, Harry, I do. So I’m going to go and I’m going to figure this out and hopefully, in the end we’ll be better off for it. If not… if I can’t figure it out… then I don’t expect you to stay because you deserve better than someone who can’t hold your hand in public. You’re not meant to be a secret, Harry. And I promise you right now, you’ll never be **my** secret. Maybe you won’t be mine at all after this or maybe you’ll be mine for the world to see. I wish I had a solid answer for you but I don’t know right now. But baby, you don’t have to worry because I’ll come back for you. I just hope I can bring you good news._

_PS: That thing I said in the truck? I do. I’m not going to write it out because you deserve to hear it in person but… I do. I know that doesn’t make this situation any better but it is what it is. In the case that this impromptu trip of mine doesn’t work out… well if nothing else, you’ll be always in my heart._

_Yours sincerely, Louis_

He tapes it to the carton of orange juice in the fridge while Zayn watches him warily. “Niall will get to that before he does,” he warns.

Louis tries to give him a flat look but he just can’t manage it. “Then it’s your job to make sure he doesn’t.”

Zayn hums but doesn’t say anything else, lips pursed and eyes narrowed with calculation. “When will you be back?”

“Don’t know,” Louis replies honestly before sighing, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I suppose Liam’s in my bedroom packing my bag right now, isn’t he?”

For the first time since he woke up, Zayn cracks a smile. “That’s what friends are for, babe.”

Liam comes into the kitchen then, a duffle bag in one hand and a jumper in the other which he tosses towards Louis. “Think I packed enough clothes for a few days in here. If you need more I’m sure someone can get it for you. Now listen, since it’s super late and you haven’t slept, pull over to a hotel for the night if you feel tired at _all_ , okay? I also packed some water and snacks in case you—”

Louis cuts him off by stepping into his arms and hugging him tightly. “Thank you, Liam.”

There’s a stretch of silence before Liam’s arms wrap around him too. “That’s what friends are for, Lou.”

Louis laughs against his shoulder and nods. Of course he’d say that. He and Zayn are so in tune sometimes it’s almost like they’re the same person.

After pulling out of his grasp, Louis nods, eyes flickering between the two of them. “And I have the best friends in the world who I love more than life.”

Zayn reaches over the countertop to squeeze Louis’ hand. “You better get going if you want to see the girls before they leave for school,” he advises quietly.

Louis nods, squeezing back and patting Liam’s shoulder as he heads towards the door. They don’t make any move to follow him and he’s kind of grateful for it.

As he passes the living room, his eyes fall on Harry who’s still fast asleep. After hesitating momentarily, Louis walks over to him and leans down to press a kiss to his cheek before brushing a stray curl out of his face. “I’ll be back, baby,” he promises even though he knows Harry can’t hear him. He can hear himself though.

That’s what matters right now.

—

Louis is standing in the driveway, staring blankly at the garage door when noise finally breaks through the morning silence. He turns his head towards the front door and out comes two small blonde girls, identical in everything aside from their clothes.

They haven’t noticed him yet, still peering in the door and calling loudly to whoever is inside. It’s easy to spot when they do notice him.

It’s Phoebe who notices him first, flicking a piece of her hair out of her face and freezing when her eyes land on where he’s leaning against his car. Her mouth drops open in surprise before she screams, “ _Louis!_ ” and runs towards him with her arms wide open.

Louis meets her in the middle and lifts her up, twirling her around. Daisy isn’t far behind and as soon as he puts Phoebe down, he does the same to her. They’re both shouting excitedly in between giggles and soon after, someone else pokes their head out the door in curiosity.

“Louis?” Felicite asks, eyes wide before she breaks into a grin. “Louis!”

Suddenly he has an armful of teenage girl and he smiles down at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing. “Hey Fizz. Doing good?”

“Doing great now that you’re here,” she replies, grinning. “Missed you.”

Before he has a chance to reply, another blonde girl walks out the front door, earphones plugged in and without looking up from her phone, Lottie pulls one earphone out. “What’s all the screaming about? Do the three of you know how early it is?”

“Well princess, if you looked up from your phone for a second—” Louis starts to tease and immediately Lottie’s head snaps up, eyes wide.

“Louis?” she asks incredulously and it isn’t shouting like the other girls but there’s a smile blooming on her face too so Louis will take it.

“The one and only,” he agrees and holds his other arm out. “Care to give me a hug or are you too old for that?”

Lottie rolls her eyes but walks over to give him a quick hug. Just as she pulls away, Louis’ mother walks out the front door, digging through her purse. “Sorry girls, can’t find my keys, just give me a second,” she calls, eyebrows furrowed.

“I can drive them,” Louis offers and similarly to Lottie, his mother’s head snaps up and her eyes lock on his.

Her eyebrows raise as she takes him in but after a few seconds she nods, hand dropping at her side and a small, curious smile taking over her face. “And when you come back you’ll join me for tea, boo?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replies, willing himself not to get choked up. “Cookies too, maybe?”

His mother nods again, looking a little teary eyed herself. “I’ll see what I can do,” she says.

That’s more than enough.

—

After dropping the girls off at school, he finds himself rocking Doris back and forth while his mother talks to Dan in low tones, the both of them casting him concerned looks every few seconds. It’s not ideal.

Sighing, he lifts Doris up to press a kiss against her forehead. One of her tiny hands comes up to pat his cheek and he smiles at her. “It’s a bit scratchy, isn’t it darling? I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon,” he tells her and she giggles, patting his cheek again.

From their joint crib, Ernie makes a noise of what Louis assumes to be protest. “You’ll get your turn, little one,” he promises, holding Doris tightly with one arm so he can reach out and tickle Ernie with his free hand.

Ernie lets out a laugh and Louis feels too warm for words to explain.

That’s when Dan clears his throat from behind him with an apologetic smile. “Your mum wants to talk to you.”

Louis nods, carefully handing Doris to him. He doesn’t know how he feels about Dan. He doesn’t actively dislike him though so that’s a good thing. Louis isn’t particularly fond either but that might just be his distaste for father figures.

Dan does make his mother happy though and that’s all Louis can ask for so he offers the older man what could be a smile before making his way to the kitchen.

His mother is sitting there, sipping on her tea and when he sits down across from her, there’s a mug of Yorkshire just the way he likes in front of him.

“So what’s wrong?” she asks, setting her own mug down.

Louis grimaces. They’re getting straight to the point then.

Taking a deep breath, Louis slumps in his seat. “Have you been paying attention to the news about me recently?”

His mother pursues her lips. “No, but Lottie usually keeps me up to date if anything significant happens. Thought you told me not to read what they say in the media?”

“You shouldn’t,” Louis agrees seriously. “They’re usually lies.”

“So then…?” his mother wonders.

Louis sighs, taking a sip of his tea. “I don’t know what I’m doing, mum.”

His mother casts him a concerned look. “Why don’t you start from the beginning, boo? From the movie premiere?”

He laughs nervously, bordering on almost hysterical. “There was a fan, mum. He wanted a picture with me and you know what happened? Another fan basically assaulted him and then called him a _faggot_ ,” he hisses the last word. “All because of me.”

If he expected his mother to look taken back at his language, she doesn’t. Instead her face hardens a little but she doesn’t comment, simply reaching over the table to squeeze his hand.

“And that’s the thing, isn’t it? It shouldn’t be because of me. It should be the opposite. I’m gay as a fucking rainbow but a bloke can’t even be a fan of me without getting called a derogatory term. And what am I doing about it? Absolutely nothing. No, instead I just sit on my arse or walk around holding some girl’s hand and pretending to be straight.” He laughs bitterly.

“Lou, sweetheart,” his mother starts hesitantly and he shakes his head.

“No, mum. I know. I’m awful for this. I should be out already. I should be helping these people but I’m not and you know why? Because all I can fucking hear any time I think about coming out is someone who was supposed to be my father calling _me_ a faggot and a twink and all these other slurs. And I try not to think about it all that often, you know? Sometimes I entertain the idea of never coming out as long as my career lives on. Just being in the closet perpetually.”

The look on his mum’s face is pained but now that he’s started Louis can’t stop.

“I might’ve even gone through with it, you know. I still might. How can I expect the support of others when the people who are supposed to love me can’t support me? When I ripped this family apart because of my sexuality? I don’t even know how you can _look_ at me sometimes. I ruined your marriage, I broke this family.” He swallows harshly around the lump in his throat. “I fucked it all up.”

“That’s not true,” his mother interrupts, eyes fierce with intent. “And don’t you dare think that, Louis William Tomlinson. You did no such thing. If this family was ripped apart it’s because Mark was a homophobic arse, not because of anything you did. Do not blame yourself.”

Louis closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m so scared,” he whispers quietly. “I don’t know if I can do it, mum.”

“Come out? Are you—is that what you want? God, Lou, darling, please don’t let Mark stop you. If you want to come out, do it.”

“It’s not that easy,” he mutters and digs the heels of his palms into his eyes before he can do something irrational like start crying. “Mum, I… people will hate me just like he does.”

“To hell with those people,” she retorts and it would be funny to hear her say that if he weren’t on the brink of a mental breakdown. “There will always be people who hate you for things you can’t control. It’s up to you to love yourself despite them. Don’t let them control you. Don’t let _him_ control you.”

When Louis is silent, his mum speaks up again. “What you said before about not wanting to ever come out though… what changed your mind? Was it the boy at the movie premiere?”

Louis shakily exhales before lowering his hands from his face. “Part of it, yeah.”

“And the rest?” she prods.

“There’s… there’s someone else,” he admits quietly.

His mother doesn’t say anything for a while and Louis passes the time staring resolutely at his lap. When she does say something, it’s a question. “Do you love him?”

“I do,” Louis answers because he’s never been able to lie to her.

“Enough to come out for him?” she further inquiries.

“Enough to do anything,” he replies.

His mother sucks in a breath and she sets her mug of tea down. “Does he know?”

“I hope so,” he mutters and reaches up to rub at his left eye. “Does it matter though?”

“Of course it matters,” his mother snaps and Louis blinks up at her, unsure why she’s suddenly glaring at him. “Louis, I thought I raised you better than that.”

“Than what?” he asks, feeling defensive.

“Than letting your fears stop you from pursuing what you love. Darling, listen, I know you’re scared but you’ve always been so strong and I know you can do anything you set your mind to,” she says, voice softer now and eyes filled with an understanding that he wishes wasn't there.

“I’m not strong enough for this,” Louis whispers so quietly he wonders if his mother even hears him.

She must because she sighs, picking up her mug and taking a sip. “We’ll talk about this later, go get some sleep, poppet. You’ve been up all night, haven’t you?”

Louis nods mutely and gets up, taking his half full mug with him as he walks towards the stairs, heading towards the guest room.

Just before he falls asleep, his phone buzzes with a text message and with bleary eyes, he unlocks his phone. It’s a single text from Harry who's saved as _Baby Styles_. Louis hesitates but eventually clicks on the notification.

_I’ll wait for you. Come home when you’re ready .xx_

—

The next few days go by too slowly. Louis spends most of his time with Ernie and Doris and it makes him a little sad because they won’t remember these few days when they’re older. He makes a promise to himself to visit more often and he hopes that he can follow through.

His other sisters spend time with him too when they’re not at school. It’s clear they missed him just as much as he missed them because they’re exceptionally tactile, burying him in cuddle piles more often than not.

Lottie and Felicite seem to realize that he isn’t just there for fun and games but both have the decency not to ask him about it. They were both much younger when Mark was around; they don’t remember the harsh words that still haunt Louis. It’s probably better that way.

Louis doesn’t leave the house often because when he went to Tesco with Daisy and Phoebe after they insisted, a pap had been there—one that wasn’t hired.

They don’t stick around too long though, just enough to catch Louis’ irritated expression. They also probably managed to capture a picture of Louis buying four loaves of bread; the brand that Harry likes. It’s more than a little pathetic.

On his fourth day at his mother’s house, his phone rings with the customized ringtone of Justin Bieber’s _One Time_. Louis almost lets it go to voicemail but then eventually he picks up because he can’t find it in him to ignore Niall.

“Hello?” he opens with and winces when Niall starts to immediately go off.

“Now you listen here, Louis fuckin' Tomlinson. Harry’s me best friend, ye hear and if you break his heart, no fuckin’ PR agent is going to save you from me fuckin’ whooping your supposed five-feet nine arse—”

Louis holds the phone away from his ear, grimacing. Apparently Niall’s Irish accent thickens when he’s angry. Good to know.

It’s not as though Louis doesn’t deserve to be told off though so he sighs silently but listens as Niall continues to threaten to break his limbs and dump his body in the ocean.

Niall’s just gotten to the part about the piranhas snacking on Louis’ flesh when he’s cut off.

“Niall, what the hell?” comes a voice that makes Louis’ heart stop.

“Just giving your boyfriend fair warning on Gemma’s behalf,” Niall defends and his voice sounds faint compared to before, as though he’s further from the phone.

“ _Niall_.” Harry sounds exasperated.

There’s the sound of footsteps a door closing. Harry’s voice is soft and melodious when he murmurs, “Louis?”

Louis’ throat muscles tighten and he doesn’t think he could make a noise if he tried.

Harry sighs on the other end. “I don’t know if you’re there but I hope you are. Liam told me you went to your mum’s house in Donny. I hope you’re having a good time.” The younger man falters for a second and Louis immediately places a hand over his mouth, afraid he’s making too much noise.

“Right, uh,” Harry continues, “I just wanted to let you know that I’m not mad at you. I know it might’ve seemed that way because of Niall’s whole speech but I’m really not. I understand that this must be difficult for you and I don’t want you to feel pressured into making a decision. Take all the time you need.”

Harry’s quiet again, aside from the sound of him breathing. Louis bites his lip harshly and tries not to think about how much he’s missed even the sound of Harry breathing.

“God, I really hope you can hear me,” Harry whispers. “I miss you, Louis. I don’t want you to rush but don’t take that as a sign of me not missing you because I do, so much. If you ever feel alone, don’t, because you are _never_ on your own. I’m always here and I’ll be here when you want to come home.” There’s a stilted silence, as though Harry wants to say something but then decides against it. “Goodbye, Lou.”

Louis hears the line disconnect and he shuts his eyes before breathing, “Bye, baby.”

_I think you’ve just found someone who makes every place feel like home._

Louis hates it when Zayn is right.

—

“I don’t know how comfortable I am with this,” Lottie complains, frowning as Louis holds the door for the tattoo parlor open. The reason Lottie with him is because he didn’t want to go alone and he figured he might as well spend some bonding time with her.

“You’re not the one getting a tattoo,” Louis reminds her, raising an eyebrow.

Lottie huffs, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “I know but just five years ago, you said the idea of matching tattoos is a ‘little bit scary’. Remember?” she reminds pointedly.

“This isn’t a matching tattoo,” he protests, casting a look around the tattoo parlor and seeing no one in the waiting room thankfully. “And a lot can change in five years.”

His sister makes a face but sighs and follows him as he walks to the counter. There’s a girl sitting there with purple hair and she looks up curiously when he approaches.

Immediately her face breaks into a smile. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you around these parts,” she teases, adjusting the nametag on her shirt that says _Maddie_. “Been a while, Tommo.”

Louis nods in agreement. “You been alright?”

Maddie grins, finally standing up. “Got my own tattoo parlor. Can’t ask for much more,” she replies before tilting her head towards the back. “Go on and take a seat, I’ll be right there.”

It’s strange to see the people he once went to school with after all that he’s been through but he finds that they treat him normally, as though he’s still the class clown they once knew and not a famous actor. He quite likes it.

Louis settles into the chair Maddie pointed him towards and Lottie trails after him, eyeing the machinery warily. He doesn’t blame her; he was terrified the first time he got a tattoo.

When Maddie comes back after washing her hands, she offers Lottie a chair before sitting down in her own seat and drying her hands with a towel. “So what’ll it be then?”

“A compass,” he blurts a little too loudly and she blinks at him in surprise. Louis mentally berates himself for being so nervous before clearing his throat. “A compass,” he repeats before pointing at the free space right underneath his first tattoo of a stick figure riding a skateboard.

“I can do that,” Maddie agrees amiably, eyebrows furrowed as she most likely plans it out in her head. “Anything specific about it?”

Louis shakes his head before pausing and nodding slowly, biting his bottom lip. “Well… instead of pointing north, do you think you could have it point to home?”

“As in the word home? In block letters or summat?” she checks, glancing up at his face.

“Yeah, exactly that,” he confirms. “And just an original nautical type of tattoo would be fine, nothing too fancy.”

Maddie nods before she turns to sterilize her needles.

Louis releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and he sees Lottie give him a concerned look. “I’m fine,” he assures her.

She doesn’t look convinced but when he offers his free hand to her, she takes it and holds it for the entire duration of him getting his tattoo.

It takes a few hours and when Maddie is touching up on the final product, she leans back, lips pursued. “I know it’s not really my place to ask but… why home?”

Louis looks down at his arm where the small black letters _HOME_ are stark against his tan skin. The word is permanently etched there now. He almost wants to touch to see it’s real but he knows how ridiculous that is.

“Wanted a reminder that no matter where I’m going, I’ll always come back home,” he says quietly.

Maddie gives him a curious look but doesn’t ask him to expand, instead returning to her machinery and adding a few last details.

After it’s all done and wrapped up, he and Lottie head out of the tattoo parlor but then Lottie immediately stops in front of him as they’re walking through the door.

“What’s wrong?” he asks without looking up from his arm, the clear wrap allowing him to still see his new tattoo.

“Paparazzi,” Lottie hisses and Louis immediately looks up, peering over her shoulder just as the flashes start to go off.

“Fuck,” Louis mutters, wishing he’d thought to call Alberto beforehand. Grabbing Lottie’s wrist, he pulls her out of parlor, whispering, “Keep your head down,” before leading her towards where his car is parked.

The paparazzi follow them, yelling things to get a rise out of Louis but he ignores it all, focused on getting his sister to safety first and foremost.

He manages to get her in the passenger seat in one piece before he makes his own way to the driver’s seat, sliding past the men who are holding a camera in his face.

Only when he’s inside the car does he breathe a sigh of relief. Then he realizes that now there’s going to be high quality pictures of his new tattoo plastered all over the internet within the hour.

He almost thumps his head against the steering wheel in frustration before he remembers the paparazzi are still right outside his windows, taking photos. He frowns at them before starting his car and driving the hell out of there.

“Are you okay?” Lottie asks after a few minutes.

Louis sighs as they roll up to a stoplight. “I’m fine. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine too,” she assures before she turns in her seat to face him. “I think you should do it, you know.”

“Do what?” he asks, sparing her a glance.

“Come out,” Lottie clarifies, looking hesitant. “Not for him though. For yourself. You deserve to be free. You shouldn’t have to hide any part of who you are.”

Louis doesn’t say anything at first but at the next stoplight, he reaches over and squeezes her hand. “Thank you,” he tells her quietly.

Her only response is to squeeze back.

—

_louehhh babes did you rlly get a new tattoo w/o me ? x_

_oooh a compass :D x looks sick m8!_

_tell me that you didn’t fr get HOME written on ur tatt … ya ilahi_

_me and li leave you alone for less than a week n you go out n get a tattoo for lover boy.. astaghfirullah_

_louis is in looooooooove :) x_

Louis really hates it when Zayn is right.

—

After a week of him moping around his house, his mother’s clearly had enough because she nearly drags him to the kitchen to talk to her.

They talk for a long time and it ends with the both of them crying a little and then hugging a lot. His mother brushes his hair out his eyes the same way she did when he was younger and tells him firmly, “You have our support, no matter what it is that you decide. I trust you to be strong, darling.”

Up in the guest room, he spends a long time thinking, staring at his phone while worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

When someone knocks on the door, he nearly falls off the bed in surprise but manages to catch himself at the last second.

“Come in,” he calls, strained.

It’s Dan that opens the door, a hesitant look in his face. “I won’t stay for long,” he assures immediately at the confused expression on Louis’ face. “I just wanted to say… I know that things have been hard for this family, especially you. I can’t get rid of the hardships you faced but if I could, I would.”

Louis blinks at him a couple of times before nodding slowly. “Thanks Dan,” he says, unsurely.

Dan nods back but then he continues speaking, which Louis didn’t expect. “I know you don’t have a great relationship with father figures and I know I’ll never be your dad but… I do care about you and if you ever need anything, just know that I’m here and I do support you in whatever you choose to do.”

Then he leaves, shutting the door behind him and leaving Louis sitting there in shocked silence.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, thinking about his past, his present and his future but eventually, he finds himself reaching for his phone.

Louis is done letting his demons beat him down. It’s time for him to shine.

✿✿✿

Harry unties his apron from around his waist, hanging it on the hook behind the door as he heads into the kitchen to turn off the lights. His shift was over five minutes ago but Lux had come in with her mother and Harry could never refuse her a cupcake.

He checks to make sure all the ovens are off before flicking off the light switch and heading back towards the register to make sure everything adds up correctly. When he finishes with that, he grabs his coat and keys.

For an impossible second, Harry thinks he sees Louis’ reflection in the glass door of the bakery but when he blinks again, there’s nothing there. He sighs to himself, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes before locking the bakery up.

It’s disappointing to find the sidewalk empty, no trace of Louis anywhere in sight. Harry’s been trying to give the older man his distance but it’s hard when he misses him so much he’s afraid his heart might explode.

It’s only been a week Louis’ been gone but it feels a lot longer than that. There isn’t anything that can be done about that though.

Harry still has Louis’ letter in his back pocket. He reads it over sometimes, when he misses Louis too terribly. He almost always ends up tracing over the words, fingers dipping where Louis’ pen pressed ink into the page.

 _Always in my heart_ , he repeats like a mantra in his head.

Sometimes Harry wonders what his life would be like if he’d never met Louis. He never likes the answer because that’s a life without the sun, without the stars, without any light at all.

Harry wonders if Louis realizes that—that he’s every single sunray that’s ever touched upon the earth. He probably doesn’t. It’s alright, Harry will tell him when he gets the chance.

As he’s walking up to his truck, he hears a quiet creaking noise and looks up, expecting a stray cat to be sitting in the bed of his truck.

Instead, it’s the last person he expected to see.

“Louis?” he breathes incredulously, coming to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at Louis with wide eyes.

“I came home,” Louis says quietly. “To you.”

Harry watches as Louis hops off the bed of the truck and takes two step forward, just out of reaching distance from him. “Like you said you would,” Harry supplies and he wishes he weren’t frozen in place because he wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around Louis’ neck, breathing him in.

“I’m going to do it,” Louis tells him then, taking one small step closer. Harry feels dizzy, having Louis so close but so far.

“Do what?” he asks because his brain isn’t functioning anymore.

“I’m going to come out,” Louis clarifies and Harry has never seen his eyes this bright before. “This weekend, I’m going to do it.”

It takes a moment for those words to sink and Harry gapes at him for half a second before he recovers from his shock. “Really?” he wonders.

Louis nods, licking his lips before taking another small step closer. “I know you didn’t sign up for this so if you want to back out now, that’s okay. I’ll understand. It’s a lot to handle, dating a celebrity.”

Harry shakes his head immediately. “I think I’ll take my chances,” he replies and then hesitates before asking, “What made up your mind?”

There’s a smile on Louis’ face when he answers. “I’ll tell you the whole story later but… what really helped me decide was a who, not a what. Someone once told me that all I needed was someone to help me realize that I was brave and strong and courageous. Not to make me become those things but to realize I had been all along.”

Harry laughs breathlessly. “They sound wise.”

“They are,” Louis agrees. “But they’re also beautiful and kind and patient and so very lovely.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that, they might end up thinking you’re in love with them,” Harry teases and his lips twist into a hesitant smile, not sure if he’s allowed to.

Louis tilts his head, considering before he shrugs. “It’s a good thing I am then.”

Harry thinks he might not be breathing anymore. He makes an incoherent noise in reply and Louis huffs a laugh before he crosses the distance between them and kisses him.

It’s easy to kiss him back, natural even. Harry melts into the kiss, curving in towards Louis and he tries to ignore the way his heart is beating like a sledgehammer in his chest.

Louis is the one to pull back, resting his forehead against Harry’s. His eyes are shining with the light of a million lightning bolts when he whispers, “I love you.”

Harry can’t help the incredulous giggle that slips past his lips. “And I love you,” he murmurs back.

They stand there under the flickering street lamp for a few minutes too long, simply breathing in each other’s presence. Louis’ fingers are tracing the slope of his nose, seemingly trying to memorize him when Harry remembers something incredibly important.

“You got a tattoo for me,” he says, wrapping his own fingers lightly around Louis’ right wrist. “A compass.”

Louis smiles wolfishly. “Maybe.”

Harry takes a deep breath before dropping Louis’ wrist in favor of shrugging his own jacket off. “I got one for you too,” he informs and he nearly laughs at the way Louis’ eyes bulge when they take in the ship on Harry’s upper arm.

“That’s—baby, that’s _permanent_ ,” Louis tells him, leaning closer to Harry’s bicep.

“I know,” he replies before lightly tapping Louis’ arm. “And so is this.”

Louis blinks at him, seemingly enchanted before he beams so widely that his eyes crinkle. That’s Harry’s favorite smile. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispers like it’s a secret between the two of them.

It won’t be soon enough. The whole world will know.

“I’m so proud of you,” Harry eventually says because he is. He always knew Louis was stronger and braver than he’d let on but to see him spread his wings and decide to stop hiding anymore—that takes an entirely new level of courage. It’s a courage that will inspire others. “You’re going to change so many lives.”

Louis smiles uncharacteristically shyly. “All because you changed mine.”

Harry giggles and they kiss again as the streetlight flickers out completely, laughing into each other’s mouth, reckless and so happily in love.

✿✿✿

When Louis offers the cameras a bright smile this time, it doesn’t feel fake. In fact, it’s the most genuinely happy he’s ever been on a red carpet and it has a lot to do with the lovely, bumbling man holding his hand.

“Louis! How was the two month break? Nice to be back on the red carpet for the first time since then?”

“Louis, how does it feel to be one of the few gay men to ever win an Oscar?”

“Tommo, is it true you’re starting up an LGBTQ charity with the costar from your last movie, Kristen Stewart?”

“Louis, tell your boyfriend to wave for us!”

“Harry, how does it feel to be dating Louis Tomlinson?”

“Tommo! Can the two of you smile over here please?”

It’s overwhelming as it always is, but Harry’s hand squeezing his keeps him grounded as it always does and Louis feels okay to breathe, okay to smile.

Louis leans up, pressing his lips as close to Harry’s ear as he can. “I love you, baby,” he whispers.

The resulting smile on Harry’s face is absolutely stunning. “Ready?” Harry asks, gesturing towards the rest of the red carpet they still need to walk down. It feels like a bit of a metaphor for the rest of their lives.

As he always does when it comes to Harry, Louis answers honestly. “I’ll always be ready when I’m with you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come [say hi to me on tumblr](http://lourrynavy.tumblr.com) or [say hi to me on twitter](http://twitter.com/deepestIove) and tell me what you thought of this! I really, really do hope you all liked it and I'd love to talk about this fic (or actual Louis and Harry) with all of you. Comments and kudos are always so very appreciated. Thank you for reading!


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